The Breakup Game
by Drakulya
Summary: Within the space of half an hour Draco manages to tear Hermione's love life apart. Naturally, Hermione isn't pleased - but worst of all, they're forced to band together in order to make things right again. Life, as they say, sucks. DMHG
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: OK... no idea why I'm starting a new fic... but the fact that I haven't deleted it by now means that I might finally have an idea that could work. Feedback will be greatly appreciated, I've left the multi-chapter fanfic scene for so long that I'm out of touch. So yeah, please enjoy._

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**Chapter One**

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It had been approximately three hours since the sun rose, or so the clock by the bed told Hermione. She closed the one bleary eye she'd opened and snuggled back into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Coffee would be nice, but that could wait for some more good rest.

Normally she was up a whole lot earlier than this, but the hen party last night had really tired her out. Ginny was finally getting hitched to Harry and so she'd invited all her girls to a night of good-natured fun before she entered the important stage of her life called marriage. Her 'fun' had taken them to five different bars and clubs. Hermione had really, really enjoyed herself, but even she, who was the designated Apparator and did not drink, was fully exhausted by the time morning rolled over. After Apparating all her friends home in one piece the first thing she did when she got home was to collapse onto the bed. Seeing as she was now stripped down to her underwear, Ron must have come home and tucked her in. She smiled at the thought.

She and Ron had been dating steadily since the downfall of Voldemort four years ago. Since they had been friends for so long their relationship as a couple was as comfortable as ever, albeit with new benefits. It was difficult to say that they were passionately in love with one another but Hermione was happy with what they had, which was stability, companionship and warmness. Occasionally, however, she felt that they were simply blurring the line between best friends and lovers rather than being one or the other.

Today was a Monday, which meant Ron had work and she didn't. It also meant that she could monopolize the entire bed's worth of blankets. Smiling groggily, Hermione tugged and was surprised to feel resistance. _Come on, you stupid blanket, do your job and cover me..._ She pulled harder and this time shrieked in surprise when she felt somebody pulling back. Had Ron called in sick today? She thought she remembered hearing him leave in the morning, but maybe she had just been dreaming. "Ron? Shouldn't you be at work right now?" she asked, turning around with an expectant look.

The face that greeted her was at once attractive, shocking and downright repulsive - well, to her at least; she was sure most women would beg to differ. Sunlight tinted the hair that contained a million shades of pale gold, causing it to flare up like his own private corona. She'd always thought Ron's hair was beautiful under the sun, but this was a different kind of beauty. This one was almost... angelic.

Although, there wasn't anything angelic about the grey eyes that were currently fixed to her own. They were about as innocent as the dirty smirk on his lips.

"Good morning, Granger," said Draco.

The last thing Hermione remembered before she passed out was the look of pain mixed with relief on Draco's face as her ear-splitting scream died down in her throat.

xxx-xxx

When she came to, Draco was slapping her face. "Granger. _Granger!_ Dammit, wake up."

She turned her head away as his palm was about to connect again and responded with a stinging backhand of her own. "What the _bloody_ hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" she hissed as he yelped in pain, clutching his face. "And what did we... what did _you_ do to me?"

"I'll pretend you didn't just imply I was a rapist," he said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. Hermione had to look down to stop herself admiring his toned yet lean body. "In any case, I'm glad you're awake and back to your usual infuriating self. Though I can't say I've missed it," he added in a mutter.

"How did you even get in here?" she demanded. She always made sure to lock the doors both with bolts and magic each evening but since Ron had come home after her last night, she had weaved a slightly simpler charm for his convenience. But instead of Ron, it had brought in someone whom she had not seen since her Hogwarts days, and hadn't really wanted to ever see again.

Draco shrugged. "A simple matter of _Alohamora_ layered with a few... extra magicks."

"Fine, but I don't care if you're homeless. You may have gone around to half the women in the wizarding world but you're not going to get any charity from me," she said, glaring at him. She began to dress herself discreetly under the covers as she spoke. Not that she really cared about what Malfoy thought - honestly, she didn't - but she hadn't gone to the gym in a while and flabbiness really wasn't attractive.

He stared at her then, and began to laugh. "Me? Homeless? Merlin, I always knew you were nuts, but Weasley must have really dragged down your IQ if you think that a _Malfoy_ would ever be _homeless._" He shook off the last of his chuckles and glanced at the clock by the bed. "Anyhow, he should be here right about... now."

Before Hermione could ask _who?_ she heard the doorbell ring. "I'll get that! You go hide in the closet," she almost shouted. Whoever it was, she really didn't want them to see Draco opening the door. _Why is this happening? What's he _really_ doing here? _she thought as she almost fell over herself to pull on her jeans and get to the door at the same time.

Since the war ended, her life had calmed down and she, like many others, had slowly but painfully gotten over the losses. She relished peace and tried to have as little turmoil in her days as possible. However, although Professor Trelawney had long proclaimed her free of psychic sense, even without it Hermione could tell that waking up next to Draco for whatever reason was about to bring in some disastrous consequences.

And as if to answer her thoughts, Draco crossed the room smoothly and opened the front door. Hermione caught a glimpse of red hair and felt the biggest lurch in her stomach she'd ever had in her life. Frustrated tears came to her eyes as she made a last-ditch attempt to pull her jeans over her foot and stand up properly, but to no avail. _Please, let it be Ginny, please..._

From over Draco's shoulder, she could see the disbelieving look on Ron's face as he stared at Draco's face and then at her sitting on the bed. As was usual when he was angry, his face went pale, and then slowly began to color. "What the f-"

"Nice of you to join us," Draco drawled, putting a hand on the doorframe as if to emphasize his lack of clothing. "But it seems like you picked a bad time."

Ron's face was fully crimson by now and a vein pulsed dangerously in his neck. He ignored the other man in front of him and looked straight at Hermione, who had frozen like a deer in headlights. "What... is the meaning of _this_, Hermione?" he said slowly, the choke in his voice revealing his fury.

"Ron, this isn't what you-" she started.

"_Oh yeah? _Because it looks _exactly_ like what I think!" he roared, causing Draco to step back a little in surprise. Ron took the chance to push roughly past him and stand face to face with Hermione, who had finally gotten dressed and was halfway to the door. "Hermione, you better hurry up and explain to me what's going on here. Why the fuck is _Draco Malfoy_ opening the door to _our_ house half-naked, and why were _you_ hurrying to get dressed?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "I honestly don't know," she said in a low voice. The contrast between their speaking volumes seemed to strike Ron, and the vein receded back into his neck. She was glad he was willing to give her a chance to tell her side of the story before he jumped to conclusions - because the implications of the scene were definitely _not_ in her favor. "I just woke up next to him. I could have sworn you came in early this morning before you left for work..."

"I told you last night before we left that I'd head straight to work from Harry's house today," he said flatly.

_Shit, _she thought, the memory pouring over her like a bucket of icy water. _He did say that. Which means the one who put me to bed was... Draco?_ The idea of him taking off her clothes made her shudder, but somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled that his hands had been gentle. She shook away her thoughts and focused on the current situation. What she and Ron needed was some quiet time for her to explain, because anything else she said would only make her look more suspicious. The fact that she hadn't realized someone had entered their home unwelcome and the fact that she'd participated in a hen party the night before would lead anyone to assume that she'd been drunk, and therefore wouldn't have been in control of herself. So it was very much possible that anything could have happened... including her sleeping with a man she hadn't seen in nearly half a decade.

Sure, she had been assigned to be the one to stay sober since she rarely drank anyway, but Ron wasn't to know that. Ginny or the other girls could back her up, but after all those drinking games last night their hangovers probably wouldn't leave them until tomorrow. And she needed to explain herself right here and right now. Hermione flicked a glance at Draco and wanted to punch the smug look off his face. It was all his fault. Was this some kind of bad prank? It wasn't April, and it wasn't as if wizards celebrated April Fool's anyway.

Ron evidently took her silence as an admission of guilt, because he snorted in disgust and turned his back to her. "This is crazy. I had no idea you could make a decision as stupid as this. If I'd known you'd go so wild at Ginny's party, I would never have let you go."

"I wouldn't call it a stupid decision. In fact, I rather applaud her taste," Draco said lightly.

"_Shut it,_ Malfoy!" Hermione and Ron yelled at the same time. They looked at each other and Hermione thought she saw a hint of a smile on his face, but in the next instant it was gone. She sighed mentally. It was to be expected; this wasn't something that could be simply laughed off, and even if they had a common foe it wasn't certain that they could make up during the process of opposing him.

Draco shrugged, seemingly unabashed by their harsh outburst. "Just expressing my opinion."

"Which nobody asked for," Hermione muttered. "And, not to mention, was totally inappropriate."

"Listen, Granger, I was complimenting you on your taste in sex partners," he snapped. "Can't you take it a bit more gracefully?"

She flushed angrily. "We were _not_ sex partners, and I didn't exactly choose you!"

"Oh? But you seemed pretty comfortable in bed with me this morning. I didn't want to wake you up for round..." he cocked his head and pretended to recall the exact number of times they'd gone at it last night, "... five, was it? Just because you looked so peaceful."

"Ron! Don't listen to his rubbish!" Hermione pleaded of him, then turned back to Draco. "Would you just get the hell _out_!" she said shrilly, and began to walk towards him with the intention of pushing him out the front door herself.

"You're so cute when you're angry," Draco sneered, dodging her and glancing pointedly at Ron as he spoke.

And it seemed Ron could take no more of this, because at this point he made a low, irritated noise in his throat. Hermione turned her attention away from the aggravating man before her and could only gape as her boyfriend of four years then proceeded to stalk out the door, slamming it hard enough to shake the foundations of the house as he did so.

"Phew," said Draco, looking relieved. "I thought he was going to punch me. That would have been a hassle. Hey, Granger, since it's d-" Before he could say anymore, Hermione delivered her best right hook into his handsome face with the relish of a child opening presents on a Christmas morning.

What had he just done? Ron had walked out! Although, it wasn't if they had never done it before. Sometimes their arguments got so heated that they wanted a break from each other's presence. But just now, his exit had had a sense of finality about it that frightened Hermione. All the other times she had been certain he would be back, and he _had_ come back, but this time she found herself unsure.

Infidelity had never been an issue with them. It wasn't something they really worried about, though of course like any couple there was a certain level of paranoia and suspicion. With today's events, she felt like she had betrayed him, even though it wasn't her fault and she had no idea what was going on. And there really wasn't anyone worse she could be found with in a situation like this - except maybe Harry, but considering he was engaged and due to be married next month, he wasn't really a viable option.

Draco staggered sideways from the force of the punch and glared at her, eyes smoldering. "You do realize that's going to cost extra, right?"

Although the idea of beating him up further was extremely tempting, she paused when she heard his words. "Excuse me? Me, pay _you_?" She snorted. "So I guess you're some kind of gigolo now, are you?"

"Look, show's over," he said, annoyed. "He broke up with you, so pay up."

"We didn't break up! He just stormed out. He'll be back," she said with some desperation.

Draco sighed and smoothed back his hair. "So you want me to make sure that you two break up for good?"

Hermione stared at him. "Uh... excuse me? Are you out of your mind?"

"What are you playing at, Granger?" he demanded. "_You _were the one who decided to employ my services. I hope you haven't changed your mind, because there's no going back now. I've sent you a contract and everything and you signed it. I don't care if you two made up, it's no concern of mine - I just did what you told me to do."

"Wha-? Who, me? Employ your... services?" She stared at him in confusion, her brain ticking away madly. "What kind of services do you offer, exactly?"

Had any of the girls last night mentioned sending a gigolo to her house to make up for the fact that she was not to drink? Whoever had done it must have either had an extremely awful sense of humor or was completely wasted and irresponsible for their own actions. She was one hundred percent sure that she herself hadn't contributed to Malfoy's invasion of her home. And, to be completely honest, if she was ever going to have a one night stand with anyone it would certainly _not_ be with someone like Malfoy. She imagined the level of awkwardness would be enough to snap them both out of whatever stupor they were in before they even locked lips.

Draco looked at her for a long while before he answered. It seemed like he was finally accepting her bemusement as being genuine, and not simply an act. "Break-up services," he said softly, a sort of expression of horror creeping onto his face.

The same look was soon mirrored on Hermione's own face. _Break-up services?_ she thought in bewilderment, wondering why it sounded so familiar. She wracked her brain and realized she had heard of them before, and seen the in ads in the _Daily Prophet_ - offers of men or women who could be hired to pretend to be a fling or affair in order for the employer to break off an unwanted relationship. And for some reason or another, Draco was one of those... break-uppers. He had done his job fantastically and had now driven a nonsensical wedge between her and Ron.

Why was her life suddenly becoming so messed up?

"I don't believe this," she mumbled, falling against the wall onto her butt as her legs suddenly lost strength. "This is the kind of thing that happens in _dramas_, not in real life."

"Shit... you mean you weren't the one that contacted the agency?" asked Draco. He let his back slide down the wall opposite her and they sat face to face, staring numbly at each other.

Hermione's eyes were starting to redden; she blinked furiously several times to hold back the cryfest that would no doubt happen soon. But not before she kicked this bastard out of her house. She was surprised to find herself already plotting ways to make his life miserable, but then shook her head. What would Ron think if he knew she was resorting to such immature methods of revenge? No, she didn't want to forgive Malfoy; however he was not her priority at the moment. He could trip and die for all she cared - she stopped her hand from reaching for her wand to cast the appropriate curse on him for that purpose - but no matter what, she had to get to Ron and explain what this whole misunderstanding was about.

She thought about it a little more and realized that she would need Malfoy to accompany her, in order to confirm her story. She also needed him to tell her exactly what happened, which meant it would be some time before she could let him leave. _Great,_ she thought. _It'll probably take way more self-control than I have to stop myself from strangling him in the meantime._

"Okay listen up, you git," Hermione said authoritatively, causing Draco to start and suppress a smile at the same time. "You're going to explain this whole break-up deal to me, right now. And you're not leaving til you're done."

And to think, only half an hour ago she was still happily tucked into her bed, without a care in the world.

xxx-xxx

"Let me start by saying that this is _not_ my real job," said Draco defensively. "I own a bar on Diagon Alley. I opened it shortly after the war."

Hermione raised an eyebrow to this, but indicated for him to go on.

"Anyway, two days ago someone contacted the agency to hire a male escort to help them break up their daughter's relationship. Apparently she was dating a Squib or something, and although the employer's family wasn't strictly Purebloods, they didn't want any Squibs in their family tree either. So they told me the address and I came here... opened the door with a few handy spells the agency taught me, and well, I think you can figure out the rest." He frowned. "But as far as I know, your parents know nothing about Squibs and Weasley isn't one."

"And I guess that wasn't significant enough to ring any alarm bells," said Hermione sarcastically.

Draco pinked slightly. "It was late, OK?" he snapped. "I wasn't in the mood to loiter around, I just wanted to get it over and done with. My bar's new renovations depend on this money."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "So what was the address they gave you?"

"23 Mint Alley," Draco said. "Which, according to the numbers on the houses nearby, should be this apartment."

At this, Hermione stopped and stared at him.

He twitched. "What?" he asked.

"Unless somebody made off with the 'A', my door says '23A'. That's what," she replied coldly.

"Oh," was all Draco could say.

Hermione held back the urge to scream.

As she thought, it had simply been a ridiculous mistake on Malfoy's part, and now she was stuck with the consequences. _Life works in mysterious ways,_ Hermione thought wryly, then mentally slapped herself for being amused in the slightest by this situation. Ron was still unenlightened about the truth so she definitely had no time to ponder on the ways that life worked.

Her work was only half done. Sure, she now had the story, and it wasn't as if Malfoy was going to lie about it even to cover up his own stupidity, but now she had to locate Ron. If she knew him at all, he wouldn't be at the Burrow. He hated the idea of running back to his parents in a time of personal crisis, so it was likely he was camping out at someone's house. And since most of their friends were the same people it would simply be a matter of contacting each of them until she found where he was.

"... ridiculous, but this is a humiliating mistake," Draco was saying.

Hermione blinked. She had been so deep in her thoughts that she hadn't realized that he was talking. _Oh Merlin. What if I missed his apology? _she yelled at herself mentally. _The only thing keeping me from bursting into tears is the anticipation of hearing a real apology coming out of Malfoy's mouth!_

"Pardon?" she said.

"I _said_, normally I would call your accusations ridiculous, but..." he sighed heavily. "I don't want to say this again."

"Come on. You made a what?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "... A mistake."

"Now that that's been established, what do you think comes next, Einstein?" she said, trying not to smirk. Not that he would know who Einstein was, but it was still enjoyable treating him like a 5-year-old child.

As expected, the name didn't register anything but a blank expression on his face, but the rest of her words soon caught up. "We fix it," he said, almost brightly. "And it is never spoken of again. _Ever_."

"Nuh-uh," said Hermione, wagging a finger in his scowling face. "You know what I'm thinking of. Begins with an 's', ends with a 'y' and has an 'orr' in between."

"I am not going to apologize," he said firmly, as if stating a fact. "I would shame the family name."

"_Yes you are!_" she shouted, causing him to shrink back in shock. "You just _barged_ in here and ruined my life. Like hell you're going to get away with it without at least an apology!"

"I already said I'll help you fix it!" he yelled in return.

She laughed derisively. "You can't fix my _life_ just like that. It's not that simple, Malfoy."

"Not like a single word will do any better."

"I can't believe you're being such a baby," said Hermione. "And I refuse to believe you're not the least bit remorseful about what you've done."

Draco sighed. It was true that he felt guilty, but the very feeling of guilt was still foreign to him and made him distinctly uncomfortable. Unlike most children, he grew up learning that apologies should not be waved around for every little thing. The word 'sorry' had never really had a stable spot in his vocabulary. If he bumped into someone, that was merely an accident and no direct fault of his. If he hurt someone's feelings, it was their problem for being so sensitive when they knew it was his nature to be harsh. To be sorry was to admit your own flaws, and he didn't like to admit his own flaws.

And the fact that he had victimized Granger, of all people, further increased his reluctance. Here was the young woman whom he had called Mudblood for most of their school life together. Now he was in a situation where he had genuinely wronged her and it was completely and utterly his fault. There really was nothing honorable he could do apart from lower his head and apologize. But still, the idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. There had to be something else he could do to make it up to her.

"Listen," he began. "I have a proposal."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Go for it."

"In addition to accompanying you to explain the situation to Weasley, I'll also personally make sure you two get back together."

**xx-xx**


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thanks guys for the reviews! I've learned some things from a few people which is great. Hopefully, this chapter will be better than the last. And apologies for the long break between updates... I kinda forgot about this when school started. Oops._

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**Chapter Two**

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Hermione blinked at him twice. "Wha-?"

"Uh... wait..."

Draco wanted to slap himself. _What did I just say? What am I, a fucking matchmaker?_ Sure, he'd wanted to do something for her so she wouldn't bring down her eternal wrath on him, but out of the dozens of things he could have offered he just _had_ to blurt out the one that would be the most time-consuming, hair-wrenching and gag-worthy.

What the hell was wrong with him?

"Did you just...?" she said questioningly.

"_No._ ... Yes. Yes I did, but I think I'd like to... rephrase that proposal," he finished lamely.

"It's very sweet of you to offer to fix up what you just barged in and_ destroyed_," beamed Hermione, ignoring his request.

He winced. The daggers behind her smile didn't whiz past Draco unnoticed. She had heard him loud and clear, and it would be a cold day in hell before she let him change his mind. As far as he knew he had just dug his own grave and now Granger had taken a bulldozer and buried him deep inside it.

As for Hermione, this was turning out to be an opportunity from the heavens to let her return to her normal life. Sure, she still had no idea how good Malfoy was at fixing relationships, but since he was so good at breaking them up it could be safely assumed that his help would be better than no help at all. At least he would be able to tell her what _not_ to do.

Smiling to herself at the prospect of having a plan, she stood up and wiped her face with a conjured tissue. "Well, Malfoy? Now that we have an idea, let's get a move on. We're not going to get anything done if we sit around here."

"What idea?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, honestly," huffed Hermione. "You _said..._"

Somehow she had gotten access to her wand and was raising the tip of it at him ever so slowly.

Draco followed it with his eyes, feeling a prickly sense of familiarity at seeing the vinewood. How many times had she pointed it at him in the past? He had long lost count, but her posture was always the same - back and arms straight, with the wand pointed directly and unwaveringly at its target. Which was usually Draco. The menace in her voice was an added bonus, especially venomous just for him.

He inconspicuously felt for his own wand, but then remembered that it was in his jacket, which was lying on the chair by the bed. By the time he dashed over there, she would have levitated him upside down, grown multiple sets of unpleasant portrusions on his face, and probably full-body binded him too. Therefore, for the sake of his own health, he decided to stay where he was.

Hermione's eyes told him that she had seen him looking at the chair and agreed that it was not a good idea.

"Fine. I'll help you find Weasley," he sighed, conceding defeat. "But I'll have to talk to the _real_ person who hired me sometime today to let him know that I'll have to postpone his job."

Hermione had almost forgotten that the real reason Malfoy had made such a blunder into her life was because of her neighbor who, in the two months since Hermione and Ron had moved in here, they had never met. She had always meant to introduce herself at some point, but she and Ron worked during the day and their neighbor seemed to have either a regular evening job or an active night life, so they always seemed to be exactly out of phase.

_I could look now..._ Her natural curiosity raised its head again, but she shook it away. Now was not the time to be chit-chatting with her neighbors.

"Alright, we can pass an owlery on the way," she said.

"That's no good. I don't know any of his details."

She frowned. "Not even a name?"

Draco shook his head. "Even a tracking owl wouldn't be able to find him. Every job is strictly confidential, as you can probably imagine. Most people don't want it to be known that they're meddling in other people's affairs, so only the boss knows who the clients are. I'll have to go back to the agency and tell her the situation, so they can pass the info on to the guy."

"Urgh! Why is everything always complicated with you?" Hermione snarled.

"Only when you're involved," he snapped back, then paused. "Wait. I think I hear someone coming."

True to his words, there was then a series of loud, urgent knocks at the door. They looked at each other, and in a split second Hermione was on her feet, tripping over herself to open the door. "It's not _him_, you know," Draco muttered as he watched her.

"Heyyy, what's all that nois- whoa!" said the woman on the other side, surprised, when the door swung open wildly in her face to reveal the flushed, wide-eyed and simpering occupant of the flat.

Hermione stared at the person in front of her who was most definitely not Ron, and tried her very best to hide the heavy disappointment weighing in her chest. Of course, she hadn't _really_ expected him to be back so soon, but there had been a chance... she smiled weakly at her guest, putting her wand away discreetly. "Good morning, everything's fine here, thanks."

"Oh, good," the woman said, looking relieved. "I heard the commotion from my room next door, so... thought I'd come check it out."

"That's very brave of you," smiled Hermione. Just how loud had they been? She cringed at the idea of being thought of as being part of an abusive and unstable relationship, when she and Ron were anything but. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I've introduced myself yet. I'm Hermione." She offered a hand.

Her mysterious-until-now neighbor took it, stared at her for a moment, and then rubbed her eyes and looked again. "Hey, wait... _Hermione Granger?_ Is that you?"

"Yes, but..." Hermione took in the olive skin, dark straight hair and the long-lashed brown eyes behind stylish glasses, and it all came back in a flood of tears - that the young woman facing her was in fact... "... _Parvati?_ _You're_ my neighbor?"

The two women gaped at each other for a full minute before Draco decided to go and check if they were still breathing. When Parvati spotted him, her mouth dropped to its lowest extreme. "Oh. My. God. Draco Malfoy half naked in your room? Hermione, _what_ have I missed out on these last four years?"

xxx-xxx

"Let me begin by saying that there is nothing going on between me and Draco," said Hermione, but it was apparent that Parvati didn't buy it.

They were sitting in Parvati's lounge, the women on the ornate chairs while Draco stood against the wall with a suffering expression. Hermione sipped her tea and glanced at the other woman. Parvati had, on hindsight, not changed very much since Hogwarts, but the pair of spectacles she had on changed her fine-featured face considerably. She had also cropped her long black hair, and was now sporting a fashionable pixie cut. All of a sudden Hermione became very aware of the barely presentable mess sitting atop her own head. She hadn't had time yet to fix it, after this morning's events, but she sorely wished she'd tied it up at least before opening the door.

More surprising was the fact that Parvati was the resident of the flat numbered 23. Draco had been hired to give _her_ and her boyfriend a surprise this morning, not Hermione. _If only he had read the bloody door..._ she thought sourly. Although somewhere in the back of her mind she wanted to tell Draco to complete his original objective so that she wouldn't be the only one in this mess, she knew that the right thing to do was warn Parvati of her father's intentions. She had Parvati had never been close, but they had been through an arduous past together and she couldn't wish something like this on her.

But clearly, explaining the situation would not be easy. "Draco's with a break-up agency," she began tentatively, gauging Parvati's reaction. The other woman's face showed ten percent interest and ninety percent disbelief.

"Draco Malfoy, a break-up agent," Parvati repeated. "Maybe it's just me, but that doesn't seem to be a very good sentence."

"That's what I thought too, until he broke up _my_ relationship."

"It was an accident, OK?" Draco said, glaring at her, then looked over at Parvati. "Patil, was it? Your father hired me to break up your relationship. With a Squib, he says. Ring any bells?"

Parvati blushed. Obviously, he had hit the nail on the head. "He's not a _Squib,_ he was just nervous_..._ and I can't believe Dad would do something like this!"

"Who was nervous?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

"Neville," her neighbor replied almost defiantly, though her blush got deeper.

"_NEVILLE?_" the other two both yelled at the same time despite themselves.

If she went any redder, Parvati would probably explode. "We've been dating for a year. But Dad doesn't approve... thinks he lacks talent in magic."

"Neville has plenty of talent in magic," Hermione said with a frown. "He's a _war hero_, for goodness sakes."

"That's what I told Dad, but he doesn't believe it. It's just that Neville got so nervous and clumsy when I brought him home that he could barely get any spells out of his mouth, and what did come out didn't do what they were supposed to. He tried to fix a plate he dropped with _Reparo_, but it turned into a bunch of centipedes and some crawled up Mum's leg. Needless to say she's not very happy with him either, but at least she can see that he's a good person."

"That sounds like Longbottom alright," muttered Draco.

Hermione glared at him and he shriveled up a little. "Don't mind him, he's just being his usual irritating self," she told the other woman, who looked slightly indignant at his comment.

"How long have you two been together?" Parvati asked, bringing the topic away from her own troubles.

"We're not," he said quickly.

"I haven't seen him since four years ago. Until this morning, of course," sighed Hermione. "He sneaked into my house and managed to cause a huge misunderstanding with Ron, which was why there was all that shouting and door-slamming going on."

Parvati gave her familiar knowing grin. "Sounds to me like he was _very_ eager to see you."

"Oh, please. He was so eager he couldn't distinguish 23 from 23A to do his damn job," the other woman sneered.

In the background, Draco rolled his eyes. "Just _how_ many times are you going to complain...?"

"I'm gonna complain all I want until you get me out of this mess!" Hermione yelled at him, then realized that they weren't alone. "Uh, sorry Parvati."

But she didn't seem to mind. In fact, Parvati seemed to be having fun watching them fight - all that was missing was a box of popcorn in her hands. "You guys carry on. I'll just refill your drinks, shall I?" The smile on her face told Hermione exactly what she was thinking.

Hermione glanced surreptitiously at Draco. He was looking at Parvati, obviously interested in what he was seeing, though she hadn't noticed and was walking to the kitchen to do her task as the hostess. A small rush of anger rose in her. How could anyone possibly think they were a couple? OK, so he was attractive, but it was only skin-deep. Besides, when had a simple argument between a man and a woman become a sign that they were together?

It occurred to her that she was probably just thinking too deeply, and that Parvati was just being Parvati. She used to live for this kind of gossip. It would be rash to assume that she had changed that much within a few years.

"So are we going to sit here and chat all day or what?" asked Draco, breaking into her thoughts.

She blinked at him. "Oh, of course. I just didn't expect... well anyway, let's go to your agency for a start."

"Leaving already, you two?" came Parvati's voice from the kitchen.

"Thanks for the tea. It was lovely," Draco replied, tipping her a wink from across the apartment and revelling in the blush and giggle that he received in return.

Hermione made a disgusted sound in her mind that somehow escaped her lips. He smirked at her and started to speak, but she got there first. "Before you say it - no, I don't want a wink as well."

"I wasn't going to offer one," he said with a chuckle. "But you sure looked pretty sour considering you want to have nothing to do with me."

She threw up her hands in frustration. "You are the most grossly egotistical man I've ever had the misfortune of knowing."

"You must like it if you haven't murdered me by now."

"I haven't _murdered_ you because I need you. Now go wait outside," she hissed, and pushed him through the door. She herself stayed behind to extend a proper thanks and apology to her old friend. "Sorry for all the trouble and noise, and thanks for the great tea," said Hermione as Parvati emerged from the kitchen with an grin on her face. "I didn't plan to come here, but it sort of just happened... we're actually trying to find Ron. I'm trying to clear up this misunderstanding and get things back to how they should be."

"Oh, Hermione, I don't know," Parvati said. "Do you really think Ron's such a great boyfriend?"

Hermione frowned. "Excuse me?"

The other woman noted the sharpness in her tone, and waved a hand vaguely as if in defense. "Well I just think that you could do better. You know, with..." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder towards her door.

Okay, so maybe Parvati wasn't just being Parvati, and she actually thought there might, or could, be something going on between her and Malfoy. "You know..." Hermione sighed. "Ron and I are like you and Neville, except we've been together way longer. So it's not going to happen."

_And,_ a niggling, self-conscious voice at the back of her mind announced,_ there's no way Malfoy would ever like someone like you._ But she kept that thought to herself.

Parvati shrugged. "It's your loss. And probably some bimbo's gain, knowing him."

"You're spot-on with that one," grinned Hermione.

The two women hugged in goodbye, and she left to join Draco outside. He was sitting on the steps leading up to the next floor, his legs splayed out in front of him and one hand absently brushing through his hair. _Yep,_ she thought as she approached. _Not gonna happen._

"Get up, and let's go," she said when he looked at her.

Draco smirked. "Make me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took several steps forward. "I am _not_ in the mood for this..."

When he made no move to stand, she grabbed his wrist roughly. "Whoa, whoa, slow down, we only just met this morning," he said, surprised but also somewhat amused by her bold action. "Well, technically, we met again, but that's not the poin-"

"Think Diagon Alley," she said, and before he knew it the apartments began to twirl and distort around him as he entered the familiar dizzying sequence of Apparation.

"You could have told me first!" he yelled as he felt his body become weightless.

Maybe it was just him, but at that moment he could have sworn he saw a sadistic smirk grace her lips.

xxx-xxx

When they arrived at their destination, it was in style. They appeared in mid-air and fell about two feet into the midst of a bustling crowd. Hermione felt a warm fuzzy tingle when nobody spared them more then a passing glance. Ah, the things witches and wizards could get away with. One would have to be exceptionally weird to warrant any extra attention.

Beside her, Draco stood up with trouble and snarled at the few people who trod on him by accident in their hurry. "Next time I'm going to Apparate on my own," he told her, nursing his stepped-on hand. "What would you have done if I'd splinched? Half of me wouldn't be nearly as useful to you as the whole."

"I think you'd be a lot more tolerable that way, actually," she said absently as she looked around. "Where's your office?"

Draco put away the mock wounded expression on his face and pointed northeast down the alley. "Number 333."

"Only a half-evil business, huh?" she chuckled, feeling pleased with herself.

She was met with a blank stare. "What?"

"Oh, never mind," Hermione said, a slight pink tinge rising to her cheeks. Sometimes she came up with the randomest Muggle thoughts. Of course Draco would have no idea of the significance of the number 666 and what was associated with it. Her joke had been completely wasted on him.

He gave her a strange look, then gestured at the cafe behind him. "Want to get some breakfast first?"

Parvati's knowing look came up in her mind again. _This isn't time for a breakfast date, dammit_, she thought. She said aloud one word: "No."

"What's the rush?" he scowled. "Well, I'm starving, so you can wait outside if you want."

With that, he turned around and strolled leisurely away from her. She gaped at him. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? You've got an obligation with _me_!" But he was already halfway through the door, and simply raised a hand to acknowledge that he'd heard her and didn't give two hoots what obligation he had.

Hermione sighed in frustration and considered her choices. She couldn't go to the agency herself, because it would be pointless. She wasn't an employee and wouldn't know how to tell anyone about Malfoy's mistake. And there was nothing that was driving him to help her apart from pure guilt, and obviously it wasn't a strong enough incentive for him to skip breakfast for her purpose.

She could go and try to track Ron down herself, but if she left him alone Malfoy would probably disappear on her. And facing Ron without a defendant would probably be pointless. It wasn't that he wouldn't believe her, but she had to let him know for real that she had not betrayed his trust. Showing up alone with the truth that sounded more like an excuse wouldn't put his fears at ease.

So there really was only one thing to do. She sighed again, this time in defeat, and stormed into the cafe after him.

As she entered, a giant parrot flew past her face, announcing her presence with a loud "_Welcome! Welcome!_". Hermione stifled a scream and let out a terrified squeak instead. Malfoy, who was sitting at a table near the back and was giving orders to the waiter, flicked his eyes her way and smirked. She dodged his eyes and strode over towards him, pretending to not be as ruffled as she was. She did, however, keep a wary eye out for the parrot. She was never a big fan of birds and parrots in particular she'd always found disenchanting.

"Good of you to join me," said Draco as she pulled out the chair opposite him.

She glowered at him. "Did I have a choice?"

To her surprise, he smiled, and she felt warmth creeping onto her face. _Wow, it's hot in here,_ her mind blatantly lied to her.

Then an image of Ron smiling appeared in her head and she felt instantly reassured. He was definitely much cuter than Malfoy. What was she getting flustered for, anyway? It wasn't like her. Maybe she was just unused to spending time alone with any male other than Harry and Ron, and her social prowess had degraded to the level of a shy teenage schoolgirl.

The waiter who had catered to Draco noticed the addition to the table, and came back for her. "What would you like, madam?"

"A butterbeer please," she said. "And a bacon and egg muffin. Thank you."

He nodded and left them, threading his way expertly between the ancient-looking tables to the kitchen. For the first time Hermione noticed how small the cafe was, and at the same time was awed by how many tables the owner managed to squeeze in while leaving just enough room between each for a reasonably wide person to pass through. The small, mostly decorative fireplace had a few feebly glowing embers in it, and a stuffed parrot that looked oddly like the one flying around the room sat above the mantlepiece. Uninspiring but clean wallpaper hugged the walls, and a tired-looking chandelier floated several metres above their heads.

All in all, despite the presence of the despised bird, the atmosphere was calm, antique, and relaxing. Malfoy had chosen a good place to have breakfast in. Hermione felt her panic and annoyance slowly ebb into the back of her mind. She realized that she was actually hungry, despite the snacks at Parvati's house, and was looking forward to the prospect of a hot meal.

Except she wished the man in front of her had red hair instead of silver-blond.

"Are you still depressed about that?" came Malfoy's voice. "Seriously, I don't think you need to worry. Weasley'll be scrambling to get back with you. I can't imagine he's popular enough with the ladies to afford to drop you just like that."

"He wouldn't drop me even if he was. And he is pretty popular, you know. He's tall and lean and has a really cute-"

Draco held up a hand to cut off what was beginning to turn into a dreamy monologue. "Alright, I got it. You guys are soulmates. Like I said, you'll be fine. So will you stop looking like you're about to die? It's depressing enough having to be here, but when _you're_ depressed too..."

"Must I remind you _again_ whose fault this is?" she said. "Or have you heard me say it enough?"

"Enough, thanks," he muttered. "But come on. How often do you get to have breakfast with _me_? Enjoy it a little."

"So I'm privileged to be here, am I?"

"In fact, yes, you are. I'm a hell of a lot easier on the eyes than Weasley, if I may say so myself."

She rolled her eyes. "Whoever inflated your ego these past four years should be punished for committing such a crime."

"You didn't deny it," he said gleefully.

Hermione was saved from responding by the waiter arriving with their food and drink. By the time he was done giving it out, Draco had a huge tray in front of him, full plates with what looked like over half their breakfast menu.

"You're going to eat all that?" she asked in disbelief. Ron ate a lot, and even _he_ had never had a plate this big for breakfast. Just looking at it all and imagining herself eating it all made her feel a little queasy.

"Sure," he said. "I ordered it after all. What do you think I'm going to do with it, feed it to the bird?"

She looked at it a moment longer, then gave him a sudden grin. "Hey, you know what would be interesting?"

"What?" said Draco suspiciously.

"If I Apparated you again after you ate all this..."

His eyes widened at the idea and he shook his head violently. "No, no, _no_. Okay, that's it. There's no way I'm going to let you within two metres of me from now on."

Laughing for the first time that day, Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer and tucked into her muffin. _Somehow_, she thought,_ I think I'm enjoying this a lot more than both of us realize._

**xx-xx**


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Wow, where did the time go? It's now summer holidays for me and as an early Christmas present to you guys who are still out there, here's chapter 3!_

xx------------xx

**Chapter Three**

xx------------xx

"Tell me about your bar," said Hermione.

Draco was both surprised and pleased to hear the question. He put down the toasted sandwich he was about to start on, and wiped his mouth on a napkin. "I bought it just about two years ago. There used to be a shop there before the war, but the building had been damaged and the owner decided to sell the area instead of start it up again. So I took over. It's not too far away from the agency."

"Are you managing it yourself?" she asked, impressed by his entrepreneurship despite herself. "Though I guess you can't be, if you've got time to get a second job."

"I have better things to do than stand behind a table all day," he scoffed. "I hired a bartender. I just handle the paperwork when I can be bothered."

It was somehow reassuring that his 'rich family' disease had not completely gone out of him. Outside he seemed like a perfectly capable young wizard blessed with his own business and good looks, but inside he was still very much a Malfoy, turning his nose up at the idea of common labor. Hermione suspected that he probably had a few house elves tucked away in the back of his store too, toiling away for him.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Ministry work," she answered. "More specifically, the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

He snorted. "Oh yes. You always did have a thing for house elves."

"And _you_ always had a thing for abusing them," she snapped back. "They deserve their own rights, you know."

"OK, fine, I'm not going to get into this argument with you," said Draco, imagining the numerous lectures his ears would have to endure if he dared to provoke her further. He quickly went back to his meal and didn't look up just in case looking at him made her more indignant than she already was. Granger was not an excessively generous person, but she always freely gave her opinion about things she was passionate about.

She hurrumphed and let it slide, going back to her own meal as well.

The atmosphere of the next few minutes was one of contentment. Draco was chowing merrily through his orders, pleasantly surprised that he was only beginning to feel half-full, and Hermione was impressed, to say the least, by the unassuming-looking bacon and egg muffin currently halfway in her mouth. The egg yolk inside was perfect - just runny enough without being so runny that it spilled all over her. The muffin was grilled lightly so that it was hot and wouldn't turn soggy, and the bacon was lean and mean. She sighed in satisfaction as she wolfed it down and finished it off with the rest of the butterbeer. She'd have to remember this place the next time she wanted breakfast on the run.

When they had both finished, Draco patted his stomach fondly. "This is my favorite cafe, you know," he told her. "Discovered it two years ago and business has always been this slow. Which is a good thing, because that means they have time to do everything well. I generally don't take people here, but... I think you could do with something to cheer you up." _So that you stop biting my ear off with all that nagging, _he added mentally, though was wise enough not to say it out loud.

Hermione was touched by his gesture. "Well. Thank you, Malfoy."

Slightly guilty at the sincerity in her voice, Draco shrugged in embarrassment and waved it aside. "It's fine. More importantly, our next destination is the agency."

"I still can't believe you're doing a job like that," she said as she folded up her napkin.

"You better believe it, because I certainly did _not_ make it up as an excuse to explain my presence in your bed this morning."

She flushed slightly. "That's not what I was implying. I just thought that this kind of work was... below you."

He put an elbow on the table, and leaned his chin in his hand, looking at her. "Granger, it isn't that hard to believe. Really. It's easy, painless and pays well. To be honest, it's probably the easiest job on the legal side of business."

At that moment the waiter came by and laid their check facedown on the table. Draco flipped it over, glanced at it, and got up to go pay at the counter. "Wait," said Hermione. He looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "How much do I need to pay?"

Draco took a second look at the check. "If I treat you, will you forget about the whole thing and let me leave?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she said without delay, and he winced.

"Then you can pay me... ten galleons."

She rolled her eyes and tossed a couple of silver coins on the table. "Let's not waste time with petty games, Malfoy. The sooner we find him, the sooner you can go."

"Fair enough," he said, picking the coins up one by one and adding it to the ones in his other hand. A minute later, they were out on Diagon Alley again, the door closing with a chime behind them. The parrot's goodbye squawks still rung in Hermione's ears.

"Number 333, was it?" she confirmed.

He nodded and pointed left. "About 200 metres down that way. It's got quite a big sign, hard to miss."

xxx--------------------xxx

The break-up agency, aptly named Problem Solvers Limited, was a small two-storeyed building wedged between its taller neighbours. It was the kind of place that could easily be missed if you weren't looking for it. Nevertheless, it was obviously infamous enough to sustain itself; almost everyone she knew had mentioned it at one point or another despite the fact that they only sporadically posted ads in the _Daily Prophet_.

As she and Draco approached the building, Hermione noticed a man squatting against the wall near the entrance. He had shoulder-length, unkempt brown hair under his hat and kept glancing furtively at the doorway next to him every now and then. Something in his eyes told her that he wasn't exactly sober.

"A colleague of yours?" she asked Draco, and drew his attention to the man.

To her surprise, he laughed. "You're joking. Would _you_ hire somebody like that?"

"Well I don't like to judge, but... no."

"The truth is," said Draco, leaning in secretively for the rest of his sentence. "He's stalking one of the women."

She stared at the man, then back at Draco in horror. "That's dangerous! Somebody should contact the ministry to get him arrested," she whispered fiercely.

He shrugged. "It's happened before. The ministry considers it a bit of a joke. They're not exactly going to send people to Azkaban just because they're lovesick."

"What about the poor woman? She must be scared out of her wits."

"She's quite able to fend for herself, actually."

The man paid no attention to them as they walked past, and Hermione gave him a pitying look before following Draco into the building. She had no love for stalkers, but his chasing after the woman reminded her unpleasantly of how she was chasing after Ron. She really shouldn't have to do this; the only thing that was keeping her going was the fact that being on bad terms with Ron was just far too awkward. Especially since Ginny's wedding was in three days. If she didn't get this sorted out by then, _everyone_ was going to know about it.

There was a throng of people by the reception desk when they entered, and from somewhere within the crowd a high female voice called out Draco's name. Hermione stood by awkwardly as a slim woman pushed through and gave him an enthusiastic hug and peck on the cheek. He looked like he was used to it as he supported her while she leaned in and up. "Draco," she repeated. "Did you by chance see a man wearing a hat out there?"

"Yes I did. Not quite safe for you to go out right now."

The woman clicked her tongue impatiently and her eyes fell on Hermione. "Who's this? A customer?" she asked, showing a toothy smile that reminded Hermione of a barracuda. A barracuda wearing plum-colored lipstick.

"No, I'm just here to... accompany him for now," she explained. The woman raised an eyebrow and glanced at Draco, whose bored expression had flickered slightly. "He made a-"

"I encountered a minor hitch in the plan," he cut in quickly. "The subject wasn't home for the several hours I was there. Perhaps I could try again when I get a better idea of her schedule. I don't like to waste my time waiting."

"Very well, that _is_ a shame. I wouldn't like to sit around for hours either. But don't leave it too late, or the client might complain. Alright, dear?"

"Of course, Clare," he said with a winning smile. "Now, more importantly - what are you going to do about _him_?" He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the door. "It's been the third day..."

Hermione, realizing that she had no more to contribute to their conversation, turned and was surprised to come face to face with several people who had wandered over to join in on the discussion. From the looks of it, they were also all employees at the agency; there was not a single unattractive face among them. There were a few who looked slightly familiar too and probably, like Draco, had been a Hogwarts student once.

"Hey, you," said a young woman near her, and Hermione started in surprise. The speaker was a brunette like herself, with large hazel eyes and a half-pout-half-scowl on her face. "You're not Draco's girlfriend, are you?"

Something about her tone told Hermione that she was not simply making friendly chit-chat, and she shook her head.

"Good, because I've had my eyes on him, and he told me _last week_ that he was single, so you better not be thinking you're special just because he's letting you tag around with him! If I see you so much as lay a paw on him, you'll be in deep shit, and I mean that both figuratively and literally," said the woman all in one breath.

Hermione stared at her, impressed despite herself. She hadn't seen anyone talk so fast since the last time she went to a Muggle auction with her parents and that had been more than half a decade ago. "I'm not interested in him," she said. "I've already got a boyfriend." _Who I'm trying to chase down right now, funnily enough. _But of course she didn't say that out loud.

The woman looked satisfied, and a bright grin bloomed on her face. "Brilliant. I thought you looked pretty alright, so I wouldn't want to make an enemy out of you. I'm Eleanor, but most people call me Ellie."

"Um... I'm Hermione," she offered with a nervous smile. It was people like Ellie that made her the most uncomfortable, even more than Clare's sharp smiles and Draco's unpredictability. It was hard to tell just when and what would set her off and make her personality take a 180 degree turn. Nevertheless, at least she had an advantage with this one - as long as she kept a certain distance from Malfoy, Ellie wouldn't bite her arse off. And at this point in time, keeping away from him was probably the easiest thing in the world next to breathing.

It appeared that Ellie had lost interest in her now that she had deemed Hermione somebody who was not a rival in her battle to win Draco. Hermione sighed in relief and was about to go sit down in the couch in the corner when Draco called her name.

"What?" she said without turning around, still walking towards her leather-clad target.

"Come over here, will you? I think we need your expertise."

This was unexpected. Her interest perked, she walked back to the throng, where everyone was staring at her collectively again. "You've got issues with magical creatures?" she asked Clare with a raised eyebrow. She hoped it wasn't some pet problem. People often called into her department with pet problems, thinking that it was their job to run around retrieving or disciplining harmless animals who did perfectly normal things like wander a few meters away from their owners to smell a pile of dung or nose at somebody's grocery bag.

"Well, not issues, exactly," said Clare. "But I was thinking maybe you would know of a magical creature that have anti-tracking properties."

Hermione blinked. "_Anti-tracking?_ Wouldn't it be far easier just to cast magic instead?"

"Darling, don't you think I've already tried that?" Clare huffed, then leaned in secretively. "Though tell you the truth, I was never brilliant with charms, so that might be half the reason why the charm was no good. I was _this_ close to getting a T for Charms during my OWLs..."

"Are you trying to keep that man outside from finding you?" asked Hermione, cracking a grin despite herself.

"Unfortunately, yes," said the other woman. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened to one of our people, but I never thought it would ever be _me_. You've had a few of them though, haven't you Draco?"

Draco had the good grace to look embarrassed, though Hermione thought she saw a pleased glint in his eye. "Uh, yes. But that's not the point."

Clare nodded. "Right. The point is that we civilians only know basic anti-tracking spells that can often be broken through by other magic, but surely there are other ways. Actually, I heard something from my friend about an article in the _Quibbler_ about a critter with natural anti-tracking magic. I thought it must have been fate when Draco told me you were working in the Magical Creatures department in the ministry!"

"The _Quibbler_?" Hermione said loudly, not quite quick enough to hide the surprise and derision in her voice. Draco gave her a look that told her he was thinking the same thing, but Clare seemed slightly offended. "Er, I mean... I had no idea the _Quibbler_ was so popular!" she amended with a big smile. "I went to school with the editor's daughter, you know, so it's always pleasing to hear about their success..."

"Oh you _did_? That's perfect! Are you, by any chance, still keeping in touch with her?"

Hermione was starting to see where this conversation was going to lead and tried to take the appropriate action to get herself out of it. _This must be how Draco felt when I got on his case,_ she thought, but was unamused by the irony. "Unfortunately, I haven't seen her in years. She could be halfway around the world for all I know."

"D'ya mean Luna Lovegood?" called the receptionist, who had obviously been eavesdropping on the conversation, much like everybody else in the room. "I saw an article 'bout her in the _Daily Prophet_ a couple of days ago. I think it said she'd came back from another crazy expedition to the _Quibbler_ office down the road."

_Whyyy?_ screamed Hermione in her head, unable to do anything except shoot death rays from her eyes into the back of the receptionist's head and hoping it would explode. _Of all the times to open your damn mouth... _

"Hermione, was it?" said Clare, her voice now dripping with honey. "Hermione darling, it would be _so_ lovely if you and Draco could bring Ms Lovegood here. I would be ever so grateful, you know. I wouldn't normally ask a stranger for a favor, but you seem like a wonderful young woman and I'm in a rather troublesome situation." She sighed theatrically. "I haven't dared to go home in days because of him..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Draco smirking. From the look on his face it was evident that he knew Clare had appealed to her sense of justice, which just so happened to be her weak point, and there was no real reason to say no. The office was just down the road, after all.

Yet, it didn't really matter what kind of impression she left on this woman, because she would probably never see her again. What were the chances she would ever employ a break-up agent? Pretty much zero. It would make her day much simpler if she just said the word that she often had trouble saying: _no_.

Simple, right? _Right,_ she thought. _I just have to say no. Who cares if she's got a stalker! I don't even know her, and it's none of my business. Of course you can't expect a stranger to help you solve your problems. The world is unfair, Clare; deal with it. _

Determined to be an unhelpful bitch for the first time in her life, she opened her mouth assertively and said: "Yes."

xxx--------------------xxx

"What in the bloody hell did I just do?" snarled Hermione.

"Something stupid," Draco muttered beside her as he jogged to catch up to her angry powerwalk.

They were back in Diagon Alley again, having taken care of one objective but now with another on the list - to locate Luna Lovegood in her office. Hermione was still in disbelief about her own behavior. It was as if she'd had minimal control over herself; and while her mind was firm about refusing the favor, her smiling face was busy living up to her reputation of being the heroine, the one everyone could rely on to solve their problems.

The only upside she could see was that Clare had issued Malfoy as her bodyguard, so she wouldn't have to do this ridiculous mission by herself. And it had been almost worth the trouble to see the gloating look on his face quickly drop into an expression of shock when Clare had turned to him and assigned him the job.

"She doesn't _need_ a bodyguard, she's a perfectly capable witch, Clare," he'd argued.

Her reply was an icy glare. "I'm disappointed in you," she said. "Hermione here has been so kind as to help me, a perfect stranger, and yet you're unwilling to assist your own helpless young female aquaintance? Your behavior has been _most_ dissatisfying today, Draco."

Malfoy had opened his mouth and then closed it again. Hermione could see his mind working fast as he tried to come up with some excuse, but in the end all he could do was force a smile on his face and say, "Alright, you win. I'll go with her."

_Damn right you're coming with me_, she thought triumphantly as she threw a look at him now. His face was twisted into a scowl that somewhat defiled his good looks, and Hermione instantly recalled them five years ago, him with the same expression whenever she answered a question well in class or when Harry performed well at Quidditch. Ron, funnily enough, was never subject to 'the scowl' and was instead treated contemptuously like everybody else with 'the sneer'.

"You're such a child," she told him. "Stop sulking already."

"I'm not sulking, just bitterly ccontemplating about what a goody-good you are."

"I am not... OK well, maybe I am. But just know that inside my head I was about to refuse her. Honestly."

He laughed shortly. "Granger dear, that kind of thing is no good unless it actually gets voiced. Though you never seem to have much trouble acting like a tyrant with _me_."

"Just looking at you makes me want to act like a tyrant," she said. "You have a tyrant-inducing face."

"Is that a compliment or...?"

She ignored him and stopped in the middle of the street with her hands on her hips. "Fine. Since you say I should put my tyranny into practice, I've decided we're going to postpone finding Luna and just get on with finding Ron first. What do you think of that, huh?"

Draco, who had not realized she had stopped and was still walking, didn't hear her.

"Hey- _Draco!_" she yelled, piqued.

He started and turned around, genuinely surprised that she was so far behind. "I know Lovegood is crazy, but you shouldn't be so scared to see her," he said in an almost soothing voice. He reached out his hand and made a 'come here' movement.

Hermione sighed loudly. "We're going to the Burrow."

"The what?"

"The Weasleys' place," she explained, realizing she had forgotten that not everybody knew the name. "Ginny would be a good place to start looking for Ron."

"And you expect me to just go waltzing into this... _Burrow_ and come out unscathed?" Draco asked in disbelief.

He was suddenly struck with the revelation of the humor in the name of the Weasley residence, and wondered if it was intended. Weasels living in a burrow. It was awfully fitting, though as much as he wanted to make a snide remark about it, Hermione would probably make his life temporarily miserable if he did.

She was frowning when he looked at her again, a faint crease appearing between her eyebrows. "You're right," she said. "But I don't trust you to be by yourself. You'll probably run away or something, and it's not like you haven't already tried that today."

"Bodyguards don't run away," he told her.

"That's chivalrous of you," she chuckled. "Tell you what. Why don't we split up? You can handle Luna while I go and ask Ginny about Ron."

He sighed noisily, making his displeasure apparent. "I suppose my opinion doesn't factor into this at all."

"Brilliant deduction, my dear Malfoy," she said. "If Ron's not there, I'll join you at Luna's, and if he is, I'll be coming to get you to be my witness. Either way I'll see you soon."

"Try not to miss me too much," he advised her.

"Oh my, that's going to be tough," she said sarcastically. "And I suppose good luck to you with Luna. You may find yourself needing it."

Draco gave her a grimace before turning and walking deliberately slowly towards his target.

xxx--------------------xxx

Hermione arrived at the Burrow a few moments after parting from Malfoy. It looked to be another peaceful day of wedding planning; from the gate, she could hear Ginny's voice screeching at her mother about what kind of neckline she wanted on her dress, and how no, she didn't want to wear the puke-green set of jewellery that her distant uncle sent her as a gift. By the time Hermione opened the front door, Molly Weasley was in the middle of reprimanding Ginny about disrespecting the goodwill of family members and the latter appeared to be extremely relieved to see her friend enter the room.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny said loudly, taking advantage of the pause while her mother took a deep breath. "Come have some hash browns, mum just made some for brunch."

"I just ate not long ago, actually," said Hermione, smiling at the two women. "Haven't you decided on your dress yet? Your wedding is in three days!"

The redhead flapped a hand. "It'll be fine. We're just getting the finishing touches done now. So, uh, what brings you here?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She had known Ginny for far too long to have not noticed the furtive glances that she had thrown towards the staircase when she spoke. And now that there was no yelling to distract her, she thought she could hear the sound of somebody walking upstairs. "Is somebody here?" she asked.

"Umm," said Ginny.

"Hermione dear, I really do recommend these hash browns," said Mrs Weasley a bit too brightly.

"I'm quite full, thank you," Hermione said sweetly, before turning towards the stairs and shouting at the top of her lungs: "_Ronald Weasley! Get your ass down here right now!_"

Beside her, Ginny grimaced and Mrs Weasley's face was a mask of pure anxiety as the three of them watched Ron slowly descend the stairs. But, unlike all the other times when he would face Hermione with a sheepish grin, knowing he had been at fault, this time he was scowling fiercely. And to their confusion, Hermione didn't look sorry either; in fact, she was scowling equally fiercely right back at him.

There was an awkward moment for Ginny and Mrs Weasley as the two lovers stared at each other intently, but then Hermione broke the silence. "I can't believe you didn't even give us a chance to figure out the situation before throwing your tantrum," she said acidly.

Ron snorted. "What was there to figure out? I have eyes, I could see perfectly clearly for myself what was going on."

"Like I _said..._ oh, never mind. Come with me, we'll explain it to you. I was only informed of what was going on after you left, you know."

"We? So you're all buddy-buddy with Malfoy now, is that it?" snarled Ron.

"That's not the point and you know it!" she shouted.

"Well what is the point? If you really weren't involved with him, then why cling on to him even after I saw you two?"

Hermione sighed in frustration. "Because you wouldn't believe me unless I had somebody to back me up. Somebody who knew the truth."

He looked at her. "I don't know, Hermione. I want to believe you, but it just looked... too real. And Malfoy wasn't exactly denying it either." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I think we should take a break... a short one. I need to sort myself out. I'm too strung out and too jealous right now to be able to listen rationally."

"You were jealous," she said in wonder. Ginny snickered quietly behind her and gave her brother a thumbs up.

Ron reddened. "O-of course I was."

Hermione resisted the urge to grin stupidly and hug him. She sensed that it could potentially remedy the situation, but for some reason she held back. _Not now,_ a part of her brain told her. _This break could be good for you._

"Well... I'm going back upstairs. See you, 'Mione." And with that, Ron trudged back up to his room, looking like he was deep in thought - or as deep as he could get.

Hermione watched him go. When she turned around, Mrs Weasley was looking completely stunned while Ginny was tutting and shaking her head. "Malfoy, eh? I assume this must be Draco."

"Yes, well, it's a long story and entirely his fault," said Hermione dejectedly.

"I'm all ears," said Ginny. "Maybe I could help out somehow. And you do realize that this means you and Ron won't be going to my wedding together?"

The brunette looked up sharply. "I hadn't even thought about that, but now that you mention it..."

Ginny smirked, and Hermione could see she had already formulated some kind of plan. "Well, since we know that Ron's the jealous type, here's what you'll do..."

**xx----------xx**


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Is this a fast update or what? XD Because it's been an age since I last read the actual HP books, I probably don't have a very good grasp of the characters anymore so I do appreciate any corrections or suggestions in terms of characterization. They will be duly noted!_

xx-xx

**Chapter Four**

xx-xx

The _Quibbler_ office was an impressive building. Not in terms of its size - the Lovegoods were hardly a wealthy family - but in the sheer number of indescribable colors it was painted on the outside. After glancing around furtively at the entrance to make sure there was nobody around who knew him, Draco darted inside.

Inside, the office was hardly any less spectacular. Ornaments and charms of all shapes and sizes hung everywhere, and photographs of magical creatures writhed on the walls. Draco stopped by a photograph showing a glowing star-shaped creature and yelped in surprise when it suddenly exploded into several pieces within the photo. A few moments later, the pieces scurried back to form the star once more. He rubbed his eyes and stared again, but the star remained stationary.

"Hello? Who's there?" came a dreamy voice from the stairs nearby.

Draco started and turned to see Luna Lovegood descending the stairs. "Uh..."

"I see you're interested in the Crackler," she said with a smile. "People often like to put them on Christmas trees, you know. It makes for a lovely surprise."

"Don't you mean a dangerous surprise?" he asked skeptically. "Those spikes could kill someone."

She put a hand to her mouth. "Why yes, you're quite right. We do recommend you maintain a distance of five feet from the tree at all times if you do decide to put Cracklers on it."

Draco sighed. "Never mind the... Cracklers. I need information on another kind of creature. An anti-tracking one. A fairly powerful one too, that can be used to prevent someone from being located by tracking magic."

"Hmm," said Luna. "What kind of tracking magic?"

"Just your everyday kind. The guy's not an Auror or anything."

She thought for another moment and then walked over to a photograph near the corner. Draco followed. "This little one is not the most powerful anti-tracker we've found, but we happen to have one in our office at the moment," she said, pointing to the photograph showing a bug-eyed marmoset-like creature. "He's capable of resisting basic detection magic, which is why we only discovered him recently despite his fairly large size."

"Well, that's perfect," said Draco. "Just what I need. How much will it cost?"

Luna blinked at him. "Oh, you can have him if you like. When you don't need him anymore, please give him back. I'd rather not have him loose on the streets."

Draco frowned, not used to such charity. "Are you sure? You seem like... you could use the money." He looked around pointedly at the cracks in the ceiling and the peeling wallpaper.

"Nothing a little bit of magic can't fix," she said cheerfully. With a flick of her wand, the wallpaper readhered itself to the wall and the house seemed to groan a little as the cracks disappeared. "Don't worry. I don't think you will need the little one for very long, unless you're an escaped criminal. And even so, he wouldn't be strong enough to keep you hidden for long."

"I assure you I'm not using it for criminal reasons," he said with a smirk. "It isn't for me, anyway."

Luna smiled again. "He likes potatoes, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"Huh?"

"Let me just go get him," she said, still smiling serenely.

Draco made a face. "Oh, you mean the bug-eyed thing."

"His name is Bob," called Luna from upstairs. There was the sound of a struggle and then she appeared again, a cage in her hand. From inside, Bob peered out at Draco, clearly afraid for his life. "Say hello, Bob."

Bob made a desperate-sounding squeal and spun around on the spot three times very quickly.

Luna looked at Draco expectantly. He was bemused, then realized that she was waiting for him to return whatever greeting the thing had given him.

"Hi... Bob," he said awkwardly. He was not a fan of talking to creatures who couldn't understand what he was saying let alone hold a conversation, but he didn't want Lovegood on his back. She couldn't possibly be worse than Hermione talking about house elves, but who knew what kind of crazy things she could do if provoked.

As he expected, Bob didn't say anything in response.

"It seems like he's taken a liking to you," said Luna, the dreamy smile back on her face.

"Great," Draco said, forcing a grin on his face as he took the cage from her. "I love bug-eyed monkeys."

"Too bad you won't get to keep him then," she sighed wistfully.

"Um, yeah. Listen, I have to go now," said Draco, rubbing his eyes. "See you, Lovegood."

Luna blinked a few times at him. "Oh. It's been nice talking to you, Draco. Bye."

He was slightly surprised that she still remembered his name, but shrugged it off and headed towards the door. When he was almost there, she said from behind him: "Say hello to Hermione for me, won't you?"

Draco spun around very fast. "What? How did you-"

"I just saw her walking down the street," said Luna. "She was walking quite fast. That way." To illustrate, she pointed to her right and jabbed gently a few times.

"Oh," he said, a faint pink tinge appearing on his face. "Of course I will."

xxx-xxx

He caught up to her not far from the cafe, and they both agreed to share their news over something hot to drink. This time when the parrot flew at her Hermione was ready, and dodged it with great gusto. Draco didn't know whether he should be embarrassed for her or laugh at her. In the end, he did both and earned a hair-raising glare for himself.

Almost as soon as they secured a table, the waiter appeared at their elbow and they ordered their drinks; Hermione asked for green tea and Draco, coffee. As they sat down, Draco noticed with some amusement that it was the same table as last time - two tables from the fireplace and one from the window, so that they were almost tucked into the corner where the outer and back walls met.

"What's that?" Hermione asked when he placed Bob's cage on the vacant seat.

Two huge eyes peered out at her and blinked. "He's Bob. We'll be giving him to Clare," said Draco. "Got him from Luna Lovegood. And by the way, she says hello."

"Oh, he's so cute!" she squealed. "Good to know Luna's still doing well with that magazine of hers. And good to see you did your job well."

"It always hurts how little you expect from me," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I've learned not to have unrealistic expectations," she grinned in response.

Draco tsked. "Fine, you win that round. How were things on your end?"

"Well, I found Ron for starters," said Hermione.

"Oh? So does that mean we're going to go to that Burrow place now?" he asked, glad that his obligations were coming to an end. "In that case, let's not waste any more time and get this critter to Clare. The sooner we sort you out the sooner I can- I mean, _you_ can be rid of me."

"It's... not that simple." Hermione paused uncomfortably. "Listen, Malfoy... you're going to be my, uh, date for Ginny's wedding."

Draco, who was in the midst of taking a sip from his cup of tea, choked and sprayed it inelegantly over the table and Hermione's cheek. "P-pardon me," he said while thumping his own chest.

Without missing a beat, Hermione calmly took a serviette and wiped her face. She watched with a disapproving frown as Draco took his time going through a dramatic coughing fit, complete with watering eyes and gasping noises, and was surprised to find that she actually felt slightly hurt by his response; but she soon pushed that to the back of her mind. "I know we're not exactly best friends, but I didn't think you would object _this_ much," she said jokingly.

"Why haven't you murdered me yet?" he asked suspiciously when he had recovered, eyeing her cheek. He hadn't meant to respond the way he did - he didn't have a death wish - but it was honestly the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth.

"Because I need you alive for at least another three days," she replied. "Which is when her wedding is. Needless to say, I'm not going to be going with Ron at this rate."

He made a face. "You could always go alone. That would probably be better received than going with me."

His words felt like a slap in the face, and Hermione almost reached up and physically returned the favor. "You really don't want to be seen with me that much?"

"No, no, don't get me wrong," Draco said quickly, noting the sudden sharpness in her gaze and trying his best to hold it earnestly. "I just mean that if _I_ suddenly turn up as your date of all people, there would definitely be a fuss. And at a Weasley wedding? There'd probably be a bloody uproar. I'm sure you don't need anymore complications in your life than you already have."

"I see," she said impassively, softening despite herself. What was she getting so worked up for anyway? It wasn't as if she herself wanted to go with him. It wasn't even her idea... "But I'm afraid I need you for this, Malfoy. And I'm not afraid to pull a guilt trip if that's what it takes."

Draco sighed. "Don't bother. You've already used that guilt trip about half a dozen times today, and it's losing its effect."

"Well there's always the option of threatening you with a jinx. Unfortunately Cruciatus curse is still illegal so I can't really use that on you."

Suddenly he grinned. "You want me to go that much?"

She flushed, surprised. "I-I don't..."

Hermione could feel that something in the conversation had changed, and she didn't like the way it was going. She and Ginny had gone over this and he was supposed to have agreed by now, but evidently he wasn't going to make this easy for her. And why did she give such a weak answer? _Damn! _

"You don't? Oh, too bad. So then I guess we should hurry up and give Bob to Clare and part ways."

"Wait! I'm not done yet," she said fiercely, the color of her face being the only indication that she was in fact not in control of this situation. "I..."

"If you're _really_ trying to ask me to go to that wedding with you, then I'd recommend a less forceful approach," said Draco, starting to enjoy himself. It was fun watching her squirm, and in her current state of discomfort he could almost consider her... cute. This was definitely a much more manageable version of the Granger that he had been stuck with for the morning. _Enjoy this while you can, _a part of his mind that he didn't completely trust told him gleefully, while the more practical part reminded him that there would be a lot of pain in store for him once this moment was over, should he choose to continue to tease her.

Which, of course, he naturally would, being a Malfoy and all. It was just far too difficult for him to resist such an easy target.

He threaded the fingers of his hands together and laid them on the table in front of his cup of coffee. "I'm sure, Granger, that you've never been educated in the fine art of courtship, have you? Let me assure you that threats and blackmail are the last things you should use."

"_Courtship?_" Hermione spluttered, going even redder than she already was. "What makes you think- when did I ever-"

"I know, I know. It's so rare for a woman to take the initiative, isn't it? And although I applaud you for having the audacity to make the first move, your technique still needs polishing. A lot of polishing." He smirked. "Take it from me, I've had plenty of women throwing themselves at me, and all of them more successful than you."

She was fully staring at him now, her eyes wide. He fancied he could see a vein throb in her forehead behind the bushy brown hair and wondered how much pushing room he had left. _Dear chap, you couldn't possibly be thinking of quitting halfway,_ said that untrustworthy part of his mind cheerfully, and gave him a mental shove.

"Firstly, you can't admit how desperate you are, even if you're planning to commit suicide should I refuse you," he said, nodding to himself. "Now, I'm flattered that you want me to be your date for Weasley's wedding so much, but really - you gotta have some foreplay before you go in for the kill, right? Warm me up a bit first. Do some flirting. Some arm-touching. Simpering is good too, but in moderation."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm trying to win over an arrogant bastard," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Great to see you're learning something. So, how do you plan to win _me_ over, Granger?"

His hand moved to his pocket, and brought out a wand. _So he's ready to defend himself this time,_ she thought. And although the Cruciatus curse was starting to look more and more appealing, she couldn't continue to use force without actually getting violent. Even if she was unusually deft with jinxes, she was not a violent woman and never would be.

So that left her with the other option - playing his little game and going along with it. She almost recoiled in horror at the idea but she really did need him to go with her. At least, Ginny had seemed convinced that that was the way to get Ron back without compromising her own pride. After all, she had been the one chasing after him even though it wasn't her fault, and she was getting tired of the one making all the effort.

Funnily enough, now she had to make an effort to get _Malfoy_ to co-operate. Oh, why was this so hard? All she wanted was what she had before. A peaceful, comfortable love life without annoying blonds ruining everything. Hermione felt tears coming on, but now wasn't the time. She had to do this. _Just treat this like a practical lesson,_ she thought to herself. _Like you're back in Hogwarts. With an asshole of a professor._

As if to seal her decision, she gave Draco an awkward half-smile. "Don't," she said when he started to smirk. "I'm trying."

"Please, continue," he said, and she wanted to punch him.

She looked past him and spotted a couple a few tables away. The woman was laughing and evidently having a good time flirting with the man next to her. _I can't even reach him from where I am_, she realized, and quickly slid into the seat beside him. Malfoy lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

"So," she said, trying not to let her voice drip with irritation. To her annoyance the first thing that came to mind was '_Nice weather, isn't it?'_, but that would hardly be appropriate for a woman trying to chat a man up. Chatting him up, that's what she was doing. She felt so humiliated that she wanted to put her face in her hands and sob uncontrollably while the ground swallowed her up and spit her out on the other side of the world.

"Yes?" asked Draco, trying not to laugh. It was getting hard to contain himself when he could clearly see the distaste on her face while she struggled to do things his way, broken periodically by miserable efforts to simper at him.

"That's a nice, um, wand you have there," she said. "Good quality... wood."

There was a pause in which Hermione realized she had just implied a rather sexual innuendo and blushed deep scarlet all over again. _Crap, crap, crap. Oh my Merlin. I can't even look at him._ She heard a choke of laughter and looked up indignantly to see Draco rather pink in the face and coughing delicately to cover up his outburst. "Thanks," he said and choked again, turning away to wipe his eyes.

Hermione shot another look at the woman at the other table. She was now unabashedly putting her hand on the man's arm, and Hermione focused her attention back on Malfoy. He was sitting there looking expectantly at her, waiting for her next move. Racking her brain, she recalled last night when she had watched several of her friends pick up men at the bars they had hopped with varying degrees of success. What had they done? What had they talked about? Certainly not wands, that was sure.

She took a deep breath and this time smiled at him for real, feeling some triumph when he looked taken aback. "I hear you own a bar, Mal- Draco," she said, resting her hand as close to his arm as she could allow them to. "I imagine you must be a very capable man."

_This is more like it,_ he thought as he leaned towards her a little. To her credit, she didn't move back in response, but allowed him to invade her personal space. "As you know, I'm a Malfoy," he said. "I come from a family of capable people. So it's only natural that I am too."

_You're an egotistical git, that's what,_ she wanted to say, but instead smiled brightly at him again. "That's a very attractive quality. So you're not just all looks, then, are you? I... like that in a man." Georgina had used that line on about five men last night, and it seemed to go down well with all of them. _Oh, and of course, the simper._ She simpered at him quickly, almost an afterthought.

Draco grinned. "I'm happy to hear that. Very happy."

She gave a genuine laugh at that. "Oh, don't let me get my hopes up," she said, and, judging it to be a good time, looked him in the eye and brushed her hand along his arm as she went for her tea.

To his utter amazement, Draco felt himself unable to look away from her eyes. His urge to laugh was fading, and he was becoming increasingly interested in what she would do next. Granger certainly was a fast learner.

Hermione flicked a third glance at her role model a few tables away, and noted that the woman was stirring her coffee with her teaspoon. She hurriedly picked up her own teaspoon and did the same, then, suddenly recalling a vague memory where Ginny had told her about the art of seductively eating ice cream, licked the spoon and then looked up at Malfoy and licked her lips. He was staring at her now; not quite meeting her eyes, but definitely looking at her. _I think this is working,_ she thought excitedly, and a second later, _Oh Merlin, Ron _can't_ know about this or he'll flip._

It was surprising how she was beginning to feel empowered by her own actions and the effect they were having on him. No wonder her friends seemed to do this every spare moment they had. Having never been single since her schooldays, Hermione was horribly out of practice. Malfoy was right; she _didn't_ have any technique in terms of picking up men. She never needed to, and she never thought she would need to. And yet it was kind of... enjoyable. Fun, almost.

"I couldn't help but notice your... jeans, Draco," she said with a small upward twist of her lips. This was in fact truth; if there was one thing she appreciated about him, it was the way he dressed. Taking a deep mental breath, she leaned forward and put her hand on his leg, running it down past his knee. _Just feeling the texture,_ she told herself firmly. "Very nice. Designer, aren't they?"

"Uh, right," said Draco, stock-still. She was a lot bolder than he expected, and although he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it, he didn't want to show her that he was anything but impassive. This was his element, after all. "Made in America, if I remember correctly. Did you like the texture?" he asked, smirking.

Hermione felt color returning to her cheeks again, but this time she was determined to not react like a rabbit in the presence of a panther, as he no doubt expected her to. "I thought it felt rather firm," she said, grinning. "But that certainly isn't a bad thing."

He started to smile. "I'm sure you can't just be referring to my jeans, Granger."

"So you're intelligent too, huh?" she chuckled. "How appealing."

_She managed to insult me and compliment me in the same breath,_ Draco thought with wonder. He hadn't been lying when he'd mentioned those women throwing themselves at him, but this was the first time he'd been chatted up like _that_.

"Since you have so many _attractive_ qualities, I think I'd like to spend some more time with you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Heading for the endgame already?"

She ignored him and pressed on. "How does Saturday sound?" she asked, holding his gaze. "It would be lovely if you'd accompany me to Ginny's wedding. It'd make me very happy." Another lingering brush on the arm accompanied her words, to reinforce her point.

"Hmm," said Draco, not looking away.

It was Hermione who broke eye contact first. All of a sudden she seemed to realize what the hell she was doing and felt very foolish indeed. This was like some kind of bad roleplay - and, although she didn't want to admit it, she had been getting into it. With a rush of guilt, she thought of Ron's face, and was alarmed by the pathetically weak surge of affection that arose from it.

"I-I'm going to the bathroom," she said, and stood abruptly.

Draco watched, bemused, as she threaded her way through the tables, bumping into at least half a dozen chairs. "You almost had me there," he murmured, taking a sip from his coffee. _What a disappointing ending,_ his mind said disapprovingly. _She was capable of much more than _that_, I'm sure._

Nevertheless, she had outdone his expectations. He was fairly certain that had she been another woman, someone whose past he didn't know and didn't share, he wouldn't have let her leave it at that, but it was Hermione Granger - the bushy-haired, formerly buck-toothed bookworm, who along with her friends had wasted no time making his Hogwarts life more difficult than he would have ever anticipated. In fact, the last time somebody had brought up the bouncing ferret incident was, well, not very long ago at all.

He sighed. It'd been enjoyable while it lasted, and now all he could do was wait for the repercussions.

Meanwhile, inside the bathroom Hermione was madly fanning herself with a hand. She'd managed to keep her cool in his presence, but once alone the memories of her actions flooded through her mind and made her cringe with the total out-of-character behavior she'd exhibited. And in front of _Malfoy_, no less. He would never let her live it down.

_You'll never have to see him again after Saturday_, she told herself with as much assurance and certainty as she could muster. _It'll be fine._

But more certain of all, he had humiliated her today. He had a point, yes - her earlier attempts to coerce him into going to the wedding as her date was probably more than a little inappropriate, even considering it was Draco Malfoy that she was dealing with. After all, he was no longer a mortal enemy, and she had no excuse to treat him worse than any other stranger she might find on the street. Nevertheless he had played his little game and she would respond in kind.

She ran her hands under the tap and patted a little bit of water onto her face to cool it down. When she was sure she was composed and ready, she stepped out again and headed back to their table.

Draco was evidently waiting for what she was going to do next, and kept his eyes on her when she sat down again opposite him. "Bring it on," he said, whimpering a little inside despite his fearless exterior.

Hermione smiled at him as she brought out her wand with a practiced and fluid motion. "_Titillarus._"

Large, white feathers appeared in the air around Draco, and his eyes grew wide. "Oh, God. Don't do this, Granger. Granger!"

"You said you were ready," she smirked, and flicked her wand. A small spark appeared at the tip and at the same time, the feathers sprung to life and began their assault on Malfoy's face, neck, torso and feet. Even when he tried to protect his most vulnerable areas, the feathers continued to tickle mercilessly, finding other spots and forcing him to respond. Within a few seconds he was a sniggering mess, writhing in the chair helplessly.

Admirably enough, the staff and other customers paid him no more than a cursory glance before going back to their own business. Perhaps they realize he deserved it, or perhaps they were just so used to strange behavior that they didn't even bother to look twice anymore. Hermione noticed, however, that the women's gazes lingered a little; they were appreciative, and then sympathetic. But still, nothing more than a glance.

"G-Gran-ger," gasped Draco about a minute in. "S-sp-hee-spare me! Heehee. Haha! Make them stop, p-puh-please!"

"Let me know when you're about to pee your pants," she said, drinking her tea and pretending to look bored.

"Now," he said in between sniggers. "H-honestly. Haha, ha, heehee. Come on, don't make me s-soil these designer jeans that you loved so much!"

Hermione watched for another few seconds as the feathers flew around him and decided that, judging by the pinkness of his face and the shortness of his breath, it wouldn't be long before his bladder failed him. And although satisfying as this punishment was, she was not so sadistic as to put him through _that_ kind of embarrassment. After all, this _was_ his favorite cafe and he did have the generosity to introduce it to her. It wouldn't do to have him banned for indecency.

"Fine," she said, heaving a great sigh as if it was a huge effort for her to stop the charm. "_Stuppare!_"

At once the feathers came to a halt and disappeared with a whirl. Draco lay gasping, wiping the tears from his eyes and glaring at her. "I, I'll remember th-that," he huffed, pointing a shaky finger at her.

"I hope you do. Maybe next time you'll think about it first before playing games with me," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Draco laughed, despite the situation. "I know, I know. I knew it was coming." He gave her a wicked smile. "But I just couldn't resist teasing you, you know."

"It's you who suffers for it," Hermione said, but grinned at him anyway.

She helped him to his feet, and summoned the waiter to pay the bill. Draco tossed a few coins at her and headed towards the door, already recovered and sauntering like always. "I'll wait outside, Granger," he called.

"A coffee and a tea, was it, ma'am?" asked the waiter pleasantly.

"Yes, thank you," said Hermione, then noticed the woman she had used as an example earlier. "Oh... and give that lady on table five another of what she's having."

"Would you like me to inform her who bought her drink?"

She shook her head. "A simple thanks will do, I think. After all, she was _most_ helpful."

xxx-xxx

"Oh, Hermione dear! And Draco! Did you find Ms Lovegood?" exclaimed Clare as soon as the two of them pushed open the door to the agency.

Draco gave her a 'of-course-we-did-who-do-you-think-we-are' kind of smile, and lifted up the cage in his hand. "Say hello to Bob."

Clare squealed much like Hermione had done and poked a finger through to stroke the creature inside. Bob, however, seemed absolutely terrified and shrunk as far back as he could, squeaking. "Why, look at how shy he is," Clare said with an admiring sigh. "Do I get to keep him, Draco?"

He nodded and handed Bob over. "Yes, although Luna told me she wanted him back when you're done with him. The _Quibbler_ office is just a bit further down the alley, anyway, and very... distinguishable. Hard to miss, really."

"Yes, yes, very good." She turned to Hermione, who was looking at the entrance with a slight furrow to her brow. "I must really thank you, Hermione. Hermione? What are you looking at?"

"Huh? Oh! Sorry," said the brunette, turning around quickly. "I was just noticing how your stalker isn't there anymore."

"Don't you worry about that, my dear," chortled Clare. "He's probably just on his lunch break."

"Uh... I see," said Hermione.

"Well then Draco, in light of your good work I suppose I'll overlook your delay this morning," Clare purred.

Hermione glanced at him and saw that instead of looking thankful or relieved, he had a smug expression on his face. "Of course, Clare. Anytime."

_Typical Malfoy,_ she thought, amused despite herself.

"Now," said the other woman, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I'm going to put little Bob here to the test and go out for lunch as well. If all goes according to plan, I shouldn't see that man hiding behind a newspaper on the other corner of the restaurant as he always does. Lindy! Keep an eye out for customers, will you? I'm going out for lunch."

The receptionist's head shot up and she nodded, obviously pleased to be in charge while her boss was out. "Will do, Clare. Don't you fret."

"Clare, don't you think you should use the back door?" came the breathless voice of Ellie, who had emerged from an adjacent room and had probably been listening in on the conversation for the last few minutes. "I mean I bet that man totally knows your schedule and is just lurking around the front waiting for you to come out so he can, like, keep following you and God knows what else. You know?"

Clare stared at her for a moment. "Ellie, I do believe that would be the best idea you've come up with all year. I'll do that."

Hermione and Draco could only gaze mutely as the three agency women continued to discuss the stalker's potential behavior and the lengths he might go to track down his target. Bob, who had been looking positively terrified for the last few minutes while he had been exchanged hands, was now fully lying on his side in his cage, whimpering softly. "Sorry, Bob," whispered Draco, wincing. He wouldn't like to be in the creature's position either; Clare, Ellie and Lindy were great at what they did, but they were a toxic combination when they were together.

"I guess this is our cue to leave, then?" said Hermione, glancing towards the entrance again.

Draco, seeing that Clare was still deeply immersed in whatever horrific things they were discussing, nodded. "Let's get out of here. Actually, you still have to tell me the details about the wedding, don't you? Seeing as I'm going to be your date and all."

She looked at him, surprised. "So... you're really going to go with me?"

"Well after your impressive display, how could I say no?" he smirked, pushing open the door.

"Honestly, I didn't think you'd be so easy," Hermione said with a grin and followed him out onto the street once more.

"Hey! I was giving you a compliment, and this is what I get in return?"

She laughed. "And I was just telling the truth. Anyway, about the wedding - it's on Saturday..."

**xx-xx**


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Heh, university's been keeping me busy. But never fear, this fic is still alive! This chapter is broken up into quite a few scenes, both to give the effect of switching back and forth and also to suggest that things are happening very quickly. I think._

xx-xx

**Chapter Five**

xx-xx

Thursday and Friday came and went and, before Draco knew it, it was already Saturday. He woke up earlier than usual and sleepily mulled over his weekend plans while getting dressed. There was definitely somewhere he had to be today, but what was it? He never woke up this early on a Saturday unless he had plans for the day.

He continued to be deep in thought over a breakfast of jam and toast. He hadn't spoken to or even caught a glimpse of Granger since Wednesday, despite working on the same street. Draco's mind flicked to their afternoon in the cafe and snickered quietly to himself as he recalled her awkwardness when she'd tried to ask him to be her date for the wedding.

Wait... _wedding?_ he thought, and suddenly felt as though somebody had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. He had agreed to be her date for Ginny Weasley's wedding, didn't he? And it was- he glanced at the calendar on the wall. She had said Saturday, and today was... Saturday.

_She's going to murder me, isn't she,_ was the first thing that crossed Draco's blank mind. The clock on the wall told him that it was already 10:42am, and he was pretty sure Granger had told him it would start at 10:30am sharp. What was worse was that he had planned to wake up early so he could saunter over to the robe shop and buy himself some nice dress robes, but now that he was already late there was only one thing to do.

With a slight grimace, Draco shut his eyes tightly and imagined the interior of Blaise's house, hoping desperately that his best friend had chosen to bring a woman home last night instead of a man. He had long gotten over Blaise's sexuality but he really didn't want to think about that kind of thing so early on a Saturday morning, especially not with the prospect of death by Granger hanging over his head like a dark cloud.

xxx-xxx

"He's _late_," muttered Hermione as she glanced at the clock for the hundredth time. Where was he? Surely he couldn't have forgotten about it. _Or maybe he just didn't bother with you,_ a voice inside her head lamented. _And while we're at it, there's probably an obstacle in the shape of a naked woman blocking his way out of bed, too._

She shook her head angrily. Georgina, who was standing next to her, took notice and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, 'Mione? Don't worry, I'm sure Ron's just helping Harry with last minute preparations. He'll probably be here any minute now."

Hermione looked at her blankly for a moment, then remembered that everyone was expecting Ron to be her date. Of course they wouldn't know; she hadn't told anybody except those who had seen the drama first-hand for themselves. One of them was preparing to walk down the aisle in about 18 minutes' time and the other was helping her daughter with the final tweaks of her wedding dress. Her secret was safe, for now - but Georgina was right, she was also waiting for Ron. Without him present, Draco's appearance would only cause havoc with no benefit to her at all.

"Thanks, Georgie," she smiled, and the blonde grinned back.

They were in the the foyer of the large hall that Ginny and Harry had decided to have their wedding in, where everyone was milling around simultaneously talking loudly and snatching sporadically at the finger food on the plates that magically refilled. When Hermione had asked Harry whether he was secretly using house elves a la Hogwarts style, he had assured her that he hadn't, but there had been a shifty look in his eyes. Normally she would protest - after all, it was part of her job - but she decided she wouldn't be a party pooper today. Besides, she doubted Harry was enslaving them. A shockingly large number of house elves knew about what he had done for Dobby and as a result they revered and adored him, and it wouldn't surprise her if they had insisted on helping out at the wedding in their own way.

Although it was now 12 whole minutes past when the doors first opened at 10:30am, guests were still streaming through at an alarming rate. Hermione always knew the Weasley family was extensive, but she supposed she had never been to an event like this where they were _all _invited. And she had never seen so much red hair in one place. It was like there was a wildfire spreading onto everyone's heads. For once, she felt like an oddball with her plain brown hair. Even Georgina fitted in better with the large red rose she had pinned onto her strawberry blonde head. Sure, it was an artificial flame, but it was a flame nonetheless.

At that moment, Hermione's eyes flicked past Geogina's rose and she suddenly spotted Ron near the entrance, clearly looking around for someone. Her heart lurched and for a hopeful moment she fancied that he was looking for her, eager to make up after three whole days apart. But then she remembered Ginny's plan. She still needed Draco beside her before she could face Ron. The git couldn't have picked a worse time to be late.

Luckily Ron was moving slowly through the room, impeded by dozens of well-wishers from various branches of the Weasley family all congratulating his sister and asking when it was _his_ turn to get married, now that his little sister had beaten him to it. And Georgina hadn't seen him yet either. Hermione wanted desperately to tell her, but there wasn't time to explain everything and doubtless the blonde would react loudly enough to turn every head in the room, let alone Ron's.

She thought fast. "Uh, hey, Georgie," she said brightly. "Don't you think those cupcakes over there look just _divine_? I've been wanting to sample them for quite some time now. Why don't we pop over and have one or two?"

"Oh 'Mione, you know I'm on a diet," Georgina scowled. "You're a horrible person for tempting me like this."

"Those cupcakes are so small and cute that I'm sure they barely have any calories. We'll have one, then. Just one!" said Hermione, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Argh... fine. But just one, OK?"

Hermione nodded rapidly and refrained from hugging Georgina tightly and praising her lack of commitment to her diet. "One is great," she beamed.

They threaded their way through the crowd and towards the snack table. The cupcakes were on the side facing the entrance, which was just perfect. Now she had her back to Ron and could only hope that the crowd milling around them would buy her - and Malfoy - some precious time.

"Man, these really _are_ divine," said Georgina, who was munching away beside her.

"So much for the diet," Hermione said, chuckling despite herself.

The blonde froze. "Oh bloody hell. You're so right. We should get away from her before I start stuffing my face."

_Uh oh,_ Hermione thought, turning pale. _Shouldn't have said that. _"Well, I think you could make an exception for today. I'm sure Ginny would hate to see one of her best friends suffering at her own wedding," she said quickly. "And besides, you look lovely in those dress robes! I don't even know why you're dieting in the first place."

"Do you really think so?" asked Georgina, turning her head surreptitiously to check out how big her own backside looked in the robes.

"Of course I do!" said Hermione, giggling nervously. Pretending to reach into her handbag for her lipstick, she glanced at the rest of the room to check for Ron's progress. To her horror, he had managed to fend off the well-wishers and was now freely roaming the room. Worst of all, although he didn't seem to have seen her yet, he was making a beeline for them and it would only be a matter of moments before he used his eyes to spot her.

"-lieve I'm doing this, but I'm gonna go for a third one," Georgina was mumbling when she turned back around.

Hermione gave her a confident thumbs up and patted on on the back. "That's the spirit, Georgie. You look fantastic, honestly! Now, I'm just going to pop over to the loo if you don't mind," she said very quickly and, with another reassuring smile, did a heelspin and began walking very quickly towards her destination.

Georgina barely had time to respond before her friend was already lost in the crowd. "Have fun, 'Mione," she called out to nobody in particular, and went back to happily munching on the cupcakes.

Luckily the bathroom line was fairly short and before long, Hermione had secured herself a stall. She hung up her handbag and put down the toilet lid, and after quickly weaving a cleaning spell she sat down. There was no better hiding spot than here; she could sit here for twenty minute and hope that Malfoy would be here by then. If he wasn't, she was going to Apparate to wherever he was, kick his pale ferret ass and drag him here whether he splinched on the way or not.

xxx-xxx

When Draco opened his eyes again, he was lying on the plush scarlet carpet of Blaise's house. He scrambled onto his knees and looked around. Luckily he had landed in the living room. Perhaps not so luckily, he could also hear muffled moaning noises from the room beside him. Rather deep moaning noises.

For a moment he debated whether he should wait til they were finished or just barge in, grab something, and barge out. Blaise definitely wouldn't appreciate an interruption, but this was an emergency, dammit. Wasn't this what best friends were for? To provide support in times of need? Draco recalled the relentless feathers that Hermione had summoned on him and shuddered slightly, his toes curling involuntarily at the same time. It was probably better not to risk it - Blaise's wrath only went so far, but Granger's could go to unprecedented distances for all he knew.

And besides, he was already late. Late was forgiveable, but if he waited he might miss the wedding reception entirely and then all hell would break loose when she found him. Death by Granger really was _not_ the way he wanted to go.

"Fuck this," he muttered, mentally preparing himself as he rose to his feet and turned to the bedroom door. With one practised and fluid motion he turned the handle and strode across the room towards Blaise's walk-in wardrobe, ignoring the yelps of surprise coming from the two men on the four-poster bed behind him.

"_Draco?_ What the hell are you doing here?" came Blaise's incredulous voice.

By this time Draco was already inside the wardrobe, digging through the mounds of clothing to find something that he could wear. He vaguely remembered a fitted set of white dress robes that he had borrowed once before and had liked; but there was no sign of it in the pile in front of him, nor on the shelves to the side. "Hey, Blaise," he said, turning around and then quickly wishing he hadn't. He had seen his best friend naked before, of course, but adding a second naked male to the picture was another story entirely. "Uh, where's that set of white robes that you lent me last time? I really need to borrow it. Now. And you," he snapped at the other man. "Could you _please_ cover yourself up for a minute?"

"I'm sorry, sir," said the young man, hastily clutching at the sheets beside him. "I was just surprised to see you, Mr Malfoy... c-considering the, ah, unfortunate circumstances-"

Draco's head whipped around. He stared at the man, causing the brunette to flush slightly in panic. "You're the bartender that I hired," he said flatly after a few moments of gradually dawning recognition. "Well, not that it matters. Who you choose to fornicate with after hours is none of my business."

The young man was fully red now, and could only nod mutely in response.

"Hey, come on. Take it easy on him," Blaise said as he stroked his partner's hair in a comforting way.

"You know, I'll be out of here in a flash if you'd just help me find that suit. And if I'm not here, I can't possibly bully my employee, now can I?"

Blaise tutted. "Pshh. Fine." He got up and crouched to open a drawer by Draco's feet. "I had it cleaned and ironed professionally after last time. In case you don't remember, you borrowed it _and_ spilled red wine all over your lap in whatever drunken stupor you happened to be that night, and my repetoire of cleaning spells is rather limited."

He pulled out a clear robe bag, with the immaculate white dress robes contained within. Draco looked it up and down and nodded in approval. "I knew there was a reason why I picked it. It really is one of your better pieces, Blaise, if I do say so myself."

"Well maybe I should give it to you for Christmas then," said Blaise, thrusting the bag into Draco's hands. "Merry Christmas, Draco. Now get the fuck out of here."

"Gladly," yelled Draco as his best friend pushed him out and slammed the bedroom door in his face.

xxx-xxx

"Hey! Is someone in there?" The shouting was followed by loud, desperate banging on the cubicle door.

Hermione flinched and checked her watch. She had managed to lay low for almost 20 minutes, but it seemed like she would have to find another place to go if she was to continue hiding away. Straightening her dress, she put the toilet lid back up with a flick of her wand and flushed. The banging ceased.

When she unlocked the door and opened it, there was an entire queue of angry women glaring at her. She hurriedly clutched her stomach and feigned a pained look. "Think I had _way_ too many cupcakes," she said, laughing rather unnaturally. The glares wavered and Hermione took the opportunity to rush out of the bathroom as fast as her heels would carry her.

To her utter amazement, Georgina was still parked next to the food tables, although she had moved on from cupcakes to crackers. After glancing around furtively Hermione rejoined her friend, who greeted her enthusiastically. "Oh Hermione, I thought the cupcakes were good, but these are amazing! Here, you have to try one." She took another and popped it into Hermione's mouth.

"Yum," said Hermione, chewing energetically for effect. "Hey, uh... you wouldn't happen to have seen Ron, would you?"

Georgina shook her head. "Granted, I've barely been looking anywhere but at the food since you left, but I'm sure that if he was here he'd come and say hello or something."

_Phew. Seems like he's not around anymore. _"Listen, I'm gonna go wait for him outside," said Hermione.

"Oh, you two just can't stand to be apart, can you?" The blonde giggled. "You're so cute. Alright, I'd better stop eating and go find the others."

Hermione watched Georgina go, and although a part of her felt slightly guilty for not letting one of her best friends know about the situation, she consoled herself with the fact that she hadn't really lied to her. She _was_ waiting for 'him' - of course, the him that Georgina was thinking of was not the one that she was thinking of herself.

She shook her head slightly and headed for the entrance as inconspicuously as she could. The flow of people entering the foyer had slowed to a trickle now; which was just as well, as the wedding procession was scheduled to start in about five minutes. She ground her teeth in frustration. _Where is he?_ her mind screamed at her again.

Minutes passed and still there was no sign of Malfoy. Hermione was just about to give up and forget about the whole stupid plan when there was a gentle _pop!_ and a hand grasped her shoulder. She screamed and spun around, adrenaline pumping through her body as she prepared herself to fight off a potential drunken molester.

But it was only Malfoy. He was clutching his ears in pain, but Hermione was too busy gaping at him to take offense. He had donned a pure white set of dress robes, open at the front to reveal a striped blue shirt and black pants that accentuated all the right places. Malfoy was an arrogant git, but he was an arrogant git who sure knew how to dress. _Perfect, _her mind crowed. _This'll make just the kind of impact you need. _

Then she snapped back to reality and remembered what time it was. "You're _late!_" she hissed. "By half an hour, no less. What the hell were you doing?"

"I, uh, wanted to look my best just for you," he said, thinking fast. "So it took me quite a while to decide what to wear."

Hermione's face softened. "Nice try. I appreciate your excuses, but don't you dare oversleep again next time."

"Next time?" said Draco.

"Uh," said Hermione. "I mean..."

He smirked, having gotten the upper hand in their conversation again. "I'm only your date for today, you know. Unless you want to arrange another? That'll cost you another round of your wooing tal-"

"Oh, shut up," she interrupted, turning pink. "It was a slip of the tongue, OK?"

Draco chuckled. Teasing Granger would never lose its appeal. "So, tell me. What are we trying to achieve today, with me as your date? I've already told you that it's going to cause at least a minor uproar. This place is full of Weasleys, after all."

"It's actually Ginny's idea," said Hermione, feeling the first stab of uncertainty as she explained the idea to him. When Ginny had told her, it had seemed to make so much sense, especially after Ron's admission that he had been jealous; but now it was starting to seem over-the-top and crazy. Why had she ever believed that having Malfoy show up as her date would make Ron jealous enough to fight for her?

"Right," Draco said thoughtfully once she was done. "So the objective is to get him to realize what he's missing out on by breaking up with you. But don't you think having me with you will only reinforce the fact that you'd cheated on him with me first, which would mean that _he's_ the victim here?"

"Let him be the victim then," she said a tad more viciously than she'd intended. "I've been trying to chase after him for the past few days, just so I might not have to use this last resort. He's totally ignored my attempts to explain and make up. I can't explain myself if he won't even listen to me."

He shrugged. "I suppose so. But don't blame me if things don't turn out the way you want them to."

Hermione smiled wanly. "I wouldn't have the right to blame you. I'm the one who made you help me, after all."

Draco watched her for a moment, noting the tired bags under her eyes and the strain in the line of her mouth. _She's trying hard to get him back,_ he realized. _Too hard. He's blind if he doesn't see how hard she's working for him._

For some reason this seemed to induce a surge of anger within him, but he held it back with some effort. He only had to look good next to Granger and work his usual charm, after all. It was all she asked of him, and getting angry at Weasley himself wouldn't achieve anything. He met her eyes and smiled, a devilish glint in his eyes.

"Well, let's do this, shall we?"

xxx-xxx

By the time the two of them went back inside, the foyer had emptied of all but the last few straggling guests. Hermione took a large hat off the hat stand for Draco and he pulled the brim over his eyes, making it impossible to see his face. The two of them slipped into the back row just as the organist started playing the first few chords of the procession music. The elderly woman next to Hermione threw them a dirty look for being late, but she ignored it and alternated between staring at Harry, who cut a fine figure standing at the altar, and the doorway through which Ginny would come through any moment now.

"I've never seen so much red hair all in one place," whispered Draco, and was prompty shushed by everyone around him including Hermione, though she smiled a little when she remembered that she had thought the same thing only half an hour ago.

A few moments later there was the sound of footsteps, and slowly the double doors opened. The organist, sensing the bride's arrival, played even louder. Everyone in the room turned their heads and watched in rapt awe as Ginny gracefully walked down the aisle on the arm of her father. Hermione tore her eyes away from her best friend for a second to glance at Harry and was amused to see his jaw drop almost comically. Even Draco was silent next to her, watching the bride with appreciation in his eyes.

As Ginny neared the altar, the sound of sniffling and outright bawling increased throughout the room; arguably the main source of the noise was probably Mrs Weasley who was sitting right at the front. The usual wedding vows were exchanged, and then Ron stood up to hand Harry the wedding rings. Hermione's heart leapt in her chest and she gripped her leg a little tighter. _He can't see you - and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to recognize Malfoy_, she told herself firmly.

It took a bit of fumbling before Harry finally got the ring onto Ginny's finger, and when they finally kissed the whole room was already clapping and cheering loudly. The newlyweds beamed at each other, blushing, while Mrs Weasley composed herself and announced the commencement of the wedding reception.

Hermione and Draco stayed in their seats until most of the guests had surged out of the room back into the foyer for the buffet, then blended in and headed into the foyer as well. Draco lifted the brim of his hat and peered around. "Doesn't seem like he's around here. He's probably with the newlyweds on the other side," he said. He turned to Hermione with a raised eyebrow. "That was a fairly short and painless procession. I'm impressed. The Malfoy family likes to drag it out a bit... and they like throwing rose petals. They _really_ like rose petals."

She laughed. "Ginny and Harry didn't want a wedding that would bore the guests. Besides, I have a feeling they were looking forward to the reception and cake-cutting far more."

A waiter drifted past and Draco took two glasses of champagne from the tray he was holding. "A toast to success?" he asked, handing her one.

"To success," she said with a smile.

They clinked their glasses together and drank deeply. The alcohol flowed easily down Hermione's throat and almost immediately she felt her worries disappear. It would be fine. And even if it didn't turn out the way she planned - well, she was starting to feel that she didn't really care.

"_Hermione!_" came a sudden voice through the crowd, and within seconds Georgina had elbowed her way through to achieve visibility. "What's going on? Ron's- well, why aren't you with him? They're taking photos and they need the maid of honor and her date. Which should be Ron, right?"

"I'm on my way," Hermione said calmly, and flicked a glance at Draco, who nodded.

"Who's that?" asked Georgina with a bemused look on her face as the two went past her. Although he had his hat brim pulled low over his face, she thought she recognized the sharp nose and the smirk on his lips as he brushed by.

"My date," called Hermione, and in the blink of an eye they had disappeared into the crowd.

xxx-xxx

They reached the newlyweds soon enough. Harry and Ginny were standing next to the cake, being photographed as they cut the cake together. When Ginny saw Hermione her smile froze. Hermione saw her mumbling something to Harry, who made to leave. But before he could, Ron walked up to them and clapped Harry on the shoulder, congratulating him once again. His sister, on the other hand, was looking fully panicked now.

What was she concerned about? Everything was going according to plan; Ron was there, Malfoy was by her side, and within moments the plan would be executed.

Suddenly Draco grasped her hand, and she jumped. "Come on, quit dawdling," he muttered. Hermione nodded, unwilling to admit that her heart was now beating very fast indeed, and walked purposefully forward into the view of everyone else in the room. She could feel dozens of curious eyes on her and heard the whispers as people began to realize that she was holding the hand of a stranger.

_"Isn't that Hermioner Granger? She's dating the older brother, isn't she?"_

_"That's what I heard too. So who's that?"_

_"Wait a minute... hey, that's my hat!"_

As if on cue, Draco took it off and threw it into the crowd. There was a collective gasp as everyone took in the blonde hair and grey eyes, and the sneer. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he proclaimed and turned his head to look directly at Ron, who looked flabbergasted. "And I'm her date, that's who." He released her hand and instead slipped an arm around her waist, invading her personal space in order to prove his point.

"Why, isn't it Hermione?" floated a coy, high-pitched female voice. "With Draco Malfoy, of all people. Tut tut."

There was silence as everyone looked for the speaker. "Oh shit," Hermione heard Malfoy say quietly beside her.

The crowd parted as a woman with chocolate-brown hair walked up to Ron, and linked her arm through his in an oddly familiar fashion. With a flick of her hair and a little giggle, she stared straight at Hermione who, with mixed feeling of dread and despair, suddenly realized who it was.

"I'm Lavender Brown. And I'm Ron's date."

**xx-xx**


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Er OK... I really have no good excuse for the massive break since my last update, apart from uni being busy. But let's face it, I also whiled away plenty of hours doing nothing online and it's already halfway through the summer holidays. Oh well. Enjoy!_

xx-xx

**Chapter Six**

xx-xx

There was a moment of stunned silence in the room as everyone's eyes fell on Lavender, who had her arm firmly locked around Ron's in a way that was nauseatingly familiar to Hermione. Even if he wanted to escape her deathgrip he probably wouldn't be able to – but, aside from the occasional flicker of discomfort across his face, Ron looked perfectly at home.

Draco was the first to recover. He sneered at Ron, then gave Lavender a pointed look that told everyone exactly what he thought of her. "I didn't think you could downgrade even further from a Mudblood, Weasley, but it seems you've proven me wrong." He grimaced as Hermione stepped hard on his foot, but made an admirable effort to keep up his look of disgust.

Despite the double-ended insult that was Malfoy's words, it snapped Hermione out of her stupor and back to the situation at hand. She took all the thoughts that had been ricocheting through her mind - _why would he take Lavender as his date, did Ginny suggest the same plan to him, how could he be such an asshole, but wait I'm doing the exact same thing to him aren't I? - _and flung them firmly to the side for the moment. As important as the answers to those questions would be, it was not what she needed – what she needed right now was space in her mind to think and process information. And to not act as jealous and furious as she was starting to feel.

She finally tore her gaze away from Ron's face and focused on Lavender. Malfoy's words had clearly done their job, and she silently applauded him; the other woman looked utterly offended, and spots of red were starting to manifest high on her cheeks. It was unimaginably tempting to blurt out the last straw that would turn this into an ugly catfight. In fact, her mouth was already open before she was suddenly very aware of everyone – but most importantly, Malfoy's – eyes on her.

Had she really fought this hard just to paint herself as a bitter and jealous bitch, right when it mattered the most?

And this was Ginny's _wedding_, for Merlin's sake. She had to exercise self-restraint if even for that reason alone. After all, things were out of hand enough as it was already, what with Draco Malfoy not only showing up as her date but announcing it to the whole room, too_._

"Frankly, Ron..." Hermione began.

Ron looked like he was prepared to be jinxed to hell. In fact, from the looks on their faces, so did most of their friends.

"… I just don't bloody care anymore."

And then she dashed out of the room without a single glance back.

The only person who seemed capable of animation at that point was Draco, who gave a low whistle as he slowly began to clap. "Well, Weasley," he said, walking backwards towards the door that Hermione had gone through. "I hope you got the reaction you wanted."

He noted with some satisfaction, as he turned around to leave, that by then there was nothing left on Weasley's face but pure guilt.

xxx-xxx

He found her out in the courtyard, cutting a striking figure as she sat alone on a bench. Pausing to watch her for a moment, Draco thought she looked pretty damn dignified considering what she had just gone through - and felt himself grudgingly respecting her for it. Granger was many things, but weak certainly wasn't one of them.

Sighing to himself at what a mess it had all turned to, he brushed a hand through his hair and closed the gap between them. He stopped when he was about ten feet away, and ventured a cautious "Granger?".

There was a long silence, as if she hadn't heard him. Then all of a sudden Hermione started to speak. "This is ridiculous," she said emotionlessly. "I can't believe I'd counted on this kind of ploy to get him back."

Draco glanced at her. "It _would_ have worked, if he didn't happen to think of the same idea."

"No_,_ it wouldn't have, and I'm a fool for thinking- no, _hoping _that it would!" She buried her face in her hands, and Draco was alarmed to see that her shoulders were shaking.

"Um," he said stupidly.

The situation was quickly becoming awkward for him. He had not expected things to turn out the way they did, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

_What are you feeling guilty for? _he thought. _You only did as you were told. _

Suddenly Hermione threw her head back and laughed, making him jump. For a terrifying moment he thought she might have gone mad. But then she wiped her eyes, still chuckling, and he decided that she was still sane... for now.

"I'm sorry I made you go through all this, Draco," she muttered. "Not to mention how completely humiliating it is to have _you_, of all people, witness the spectacular end to our picture perfect relationship."

"It wasn't picture perfect," said Draco mildly.

Hermione looked up at him, a tiny frown creasing her forehead. "What do you mean?"

He smirked. "Having a weasel as a half of any relationship would render it fairly unappetizing." Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he mentally slapped himself. Now was really not the time to invite Granger to jinx him - in her current state, who knew how much worse her usual repertoire could get?

Fortunately, his gamble worked in his favor. She stared at him for a moment before breaking into a wan smile despite herself.

_I win... at something,_ he thought to himself, somewhat puzzled at his own feelings of triumph.

She dabbed at her eyes again. This time she seemed to get a hold of herself, and the familiar look of quiet self-confidence returned to her face. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Another stab of guilt. Draco gave her an uncomfortable smile. "Don't. I haven't done anything for you."

"You've done more than I'd expect, as much as I hate to have double standards."

"And _you_ never cease to injure me."

They grinned at each other for a moment, and all of a sudden Hermione realized she didn't want the moment to end. _Forget about Ron,_ a voice whispered seductively in her mind. _Look at what's in front of you._ And she did look. She looked into Malfoy's grey eyes - normally the color of cold steel, but now a warm pewter - and something told her that if she was to make any sort of move, he would respond in kind.

Her hand moved. He watched it with an eagle's intensity as it faltered, before dropping back to her side.

A second passed, then another, and finally Draco broke the spell by looking away. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. For an instant, her body had moved on its own; she would be lying if she said it had been completely involuntary, but she knew for a fact that right now she did not need whatever would have happened had her hand reached its destination.

The first inklings of attraction was there but the motives would be all wrong. Her head was still full of images of Ron with Lavender perched on his arm. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, irritated at her own conflicting emotions.

It was just a moment of weakness, that's all. Surely it was forgiveable considering all that had happened to her within the past few days.

"Hermione!" came a faint voice, cutting through the air between them. "Hermione, where are you?"

"Is that...?" questioned Draco as he looked for the source of the sound.

Hermione nodded. "Ginny. The unfortunate bride caught up in our little drama."

"She'll understand. She's the one that gave you the idea in the first place," he said. "But I don't think she'll appreciate my presence very much. So... I'd better go."

Once again the hand twitched and did not go unnoticed, except perhaps by Hermione herself.

"See you, Draco," she said simply.

"For your sake, it may be best if you didn't," he murmured under his breath, and gave her one last glance before disapparating with a quiet _'pop'_.

Hermione watched him go. She took a deep breath when she was sure he'd completely gone and then turned around. "Ginny," she said half-heartedly to the redhead, who was by now rapidly heading her way. The look on her face told Hermione at once that her best friend was just as bewildered as she was.

As soon as she was within arm's reach, Ginny rushed in and enveloped Hermione in a crushing hug. "I'm so sorry, 'Mione'," she said in a small muffled voice. "On behalf of my git of a brother, too... oh, this is all so bloody ridiculous!"

"My sentiments exactly," said Hermione dryly. "But more importantly, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have dragged my own problems to your wedding."

The redhead sniffled prettily. "No, that's OK. I was prepared for the worst when I talked you into that little scheme of mine. Besides," she added brightly, "now there's no way my wedding won't make the cover of _Magical Matrimonies Monthly_!"

Hermione burst into laughter. "I'm sure that would make everything worth it."

"Oh, you have no idea the lengths some women go to in order to get on that cover, Hermione," said Ginny, toally deadpan. Then she, too, broke into a grin. "Well, at least you're not entirely depressed. To be honest I was expecting to see you either crying in a crumpled heap on the ground or jinxing the hell out of everything in sight."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Hermione. "Which would you prefer, sobbing mess or raging lunatic?"

Ginny chuckled. "On the contrary. I'm glad you seem to be handling it well." She peered at the brunette, suddenly serious. "You _are_ alright, aren't you? I hope you're not thinking of putting on a cheerful act and then doing something silly once I'm out of sight. If there's anything you need to let out, now's the time. I'm not your best girlfriend for nothing, you know."

"I'm fine now, really. In fact, someone already beat you to it. To console me I mean."

"Oh?" said Ginny, raising an eyebrow. "Then Draco certainly has changed for the better. I didn't think he had it in him."

For no good reason, Hermione found herself turning pink. "I was surprised, too. He didn't exactly leave fond memories in Hogwarts but ever since the... _incident_, he's been nothing but civil. Even _nice_ on occasion." Childish reaction as it was, she pretended to shudder at the idea, evoking giggles from her friend. "I'd like to keep thinking of him as a scumbag ferret, but even I have to admit that he's certainly different now."

"Sounds like someone's gotten a bit attached," the redhead smirked.

"I'm only telling the facts," retorted Hermione, though her blush deepened.

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, Ron is going to be so disappointed. He seemed so sure that you were going to be pining for him. But look at you. You're practically the same as ever."

"I'm not some lovestruck fool," snapped Hermione. "I may love him but I refuse to cling to him like a limpet. Not like... _Lavender_."

"Don't be so hard on him, 'Mione. He was getting quite desperate by the time she approached him. My dear brother wanted to believe you, but you know how he has that silly inferiority complex of his."

The brunette sighed. "Yes, of course I know. I swear, I've spent countless hours assuring him that I'm not going to run off with the next cute wizard I see on the street or in the office. Yet he needs constant reassurance. You'd think that being together for _four years_ would be saying something, but no, it's still not enough."

"I suppose you can blame Harry for it," said Ginny. "Being around Golden Boy all the time... jeez, even _I_ almost feel sorry for him."

"You know it's not an excuse for what he did."

"I know, I know. As things are, it's probably best if you two don't see each other for a while." Ginny glanced back towards the wedding hall. "Especially not with Lavender there. She's just going to make things worse."

"As if things could get any worse right now," muttered Hermione.

"It can, actually. You being sent to Azkaban for torture and murder. Trust me, I do _not _want to have to deal with that right now. So, what'll it be? Should I kick Ron and Lavender out, or would you rather go home?"

"Well... truth be told, it's been a long day," Hermione said. "No- it's been a damn long _week_. I'll take your advice and go home, I guess. Tell Harry that I'm sorry I couldn't stay for the reception."

Ginny blanched. "Bloody hell, I forgot about Harry. Knowing him, he's probably more angry about the Lavender thing than you appear to be."

"So easy to forget about your newlywed husband sometimes, isn't it?" the brunette grinned.

"Oh shut it," said Ginny. She moved in for another hug, and then put her hands on Hermione's shoulders as they moved apart. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. I know you totally hate my brother right now, but try not to think about him too much and get some rest tonight. Alright?"

"Easier said than done," said Hermione with a bitter smile. "Far, far easier."

xxx-xxx

The next day Draco headed into the Problem Solvers agency to collect his pay from his latest client. The feeling of guilt that had reared its ugly head yesterday was back, and although he had steeled himself, it still simmered in the back of his mind like a mental itch that he couldn't scratch. He did his best to disregard it as he sauntered up to the main desk, behind which April the receptionist had her nose buried in a trashy romance novel.

"April," he said, watching with amusement as the woman started and jumped about a foot off her swivel chair.

"Oh, it's jus' you, Draco," said April, relieved. "Don't be scarin' me like that, ya hear? I don't dare to wonder what Clare'd to do me if she caught me slackin' off again. She already confiscated 'bout a half dozen of these books from me."

The blond smirked. "At least try to be a little less obvious about it. Speaking of Clare, where is she? I need to report in."

"Finished 'nother case, eh? You're quick as always. I do pity the poor darlin' who got their heart broken, though," April chuckled to herself as she gathered some sheets of paperwork onto a clipboard and handed it to him. "Clare's up in 'er office."

Ten minutes later Draco opened the door to Clare's office to find her reading a book that looked exactly like the one April had had. Shaking his head, he went up to her quietly and plucked the novel from her hands. Clare's face maintained its mindless and slightly perverted expression for a second longer before she realized what had happened.

"Draco!" she said, looking horrified. "How dare you enter my office without knocking! I was busy!"

"Yes, yes. If you just give me my share for this assignment, you can go back to reading April's novels." He tossed the clipboard onto her desk.

Clare peered at the assignment description at the top of the sheet, and then flipped through the rest of the pages briskly. "Ah yes. The case with that lovely young woman, isn't it? Such a shame that you had to do this one, seeing as you two were on such good terms and all." She paused for a moment to fill out something on the sheets, and petted the furry thing sitting on the corner of her desk which, Draco was amazed to see, was Bob, albeit with a bright purple bow tied onto its long tail. "How is she, anyway?"

He sighed. "She's just great. About as great as you get after a break-up like that."

His boss looked up at him at his tone, raising an eyebrow, but didn't pursue the matter. With a flourish, she took out her albatross quill and scrawled her signature at the bottom of the final page. "There, all done! I'll send the payslip to the goblins by the end of today."

"Thanks, Clare," said Draco. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Wait. One more thing."

He turned around reluctantly. "What is it?"

"The client for this case asked me yesterday to see you personally to give their thanks. Now, normally I wouldn't do this, but she was quite insistent that she already knew who you were, so there was no point trying to keep things anonymous." Clare threaded her plum-tipped fingers together. "It's all up to you, of course, whether you choose to interact with them or not."

"This isn't the first time a client's said something like that," said Draco. "You should know better than to take them seriously."

Clare shrugged. "I know you have a policy of not meeting your clients, but..."

"That's not entirely the issue," said Draco, shaking his head. "If it were another case, I might be alright with it. But not _this_ case. I don't even want to know who the bloody client is."

"What's wrong, Draco? I've never seen you worked up like this over an assignment before. Surely this wasn't the only time where the case involved someone you knew?"

"No, but this time... it's different." He smiled wanly. "Listen, Clare... I think I need a break. Give all my cases to Dean. He can handle them just as well."

And with that, he was out the door. But Clare understood. She had seen in his eyes that something was wrong from the moment he'd walked into her office, and she'd guessed that it had something to do with the case he was bringing in. That Hermione wasn't just any acquaintance of his - something must have happened for him to be so agitated about her case.

The client, too. Clare didn't usually take people seriously when they said they knew the break-up agent involved, but she had heard of this woman before and there was not a flicker of untruth in her eyes when she'd spoken. Still, the whole thing smelled complicated. It was probably a good thing that Draco had refused to meet the client. After all, it was one of the rules of employment here - you didn't bring your personal problems to work, and whatever problems that cropped up would have to be dealt with on your own.

She stroked Bob's back, and smiled when he nuzzled her hand. "Must be nice to be young, huh?" she told him.

Bob just chirped in response.

xxx-xxx

By the third day, Hermione decided that she was getting tired of comforting herself by sleeping in everyday, watching silly Muggle romance movies and maintaining a diet of nothing but ice cream, cinnamon donuts and butterbeer. Not only was she starting to break out in pimples, which hadn't happened to her since the end of 6th year, she was also finding that she felt better than she'd expected. Liberated, in fact.

With Ron around she'd always had to keep him in mind when doing things. She had to cook for two, not come home too late, and just generally be a good live-in girlfriend. But now that she was single again she realized how much she used to do - or how little Ron contributed. Aside from the extra tasks of taking in the laundry and emptying the rubbish bins, which used to be his chores, Hermione did things much the same as always. And to her surprise, even without Ron beside her, life went on.

On the fourth day after the wedding, Hermione went back to work. She kept the drama to herself and told everyone else that she'd caught a cold, which was why she'd been absent for the past few days. Unfortunately she forgot about the media.

With the fifth day came the new edition of weekly gossip magazines, as well as the latest issue of _Magical Matrimonies Monthly _that Ginny had been so interested in. Hermione dropped by a news stand on the way home and smiled a little when she spotted Ginny and Harry beaming and waving at her from the cover of the aforementioned magazine.

Despite her usual disdain for such magazines, she couldn't help picking it up and reading the article about her best friends' wedding just to make sure they didn't include anything unsavory... like the showdown between her and Lavender. Fortunately the writer of the article seemed to have left shortly after the ceremony, and hadn't witnessed the drama afterwards. Satisfied with the article's content, she put the issue back and headed out back towards Diagon Alley.

If she hadn't happened to hurt herself on her way out, she wouldn't have seen it. But as things went, she stubbed her big toe quite forcefully against the corner of the gossip shelf. Resisting the urge to shout profanities at the shelf, she bent forward to nurse her foot, and at the same time her eyes fell upon her own pale, frozen face gracing the front of _Witches' Day_.

It was a perfect shot of the scene - she and Draco stood by one side, and Ron and Lavender on the other. Even in the photo, Draco could be seen mouthing off at Lavender, who alternated between looking positively livid to simpering at Ron. The caption read _'Golden couple in trouble' _in big bold red font, and a smaller but no less obtrusive subtitle added _'Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley seen at Harry Potter's wedding - but not with each other!'_.

"Great, just what I need," Hermione muttered to herself. She briefly, madly, considered buying the shop's entire stock of the magazine, but then common sense took hold again. _Witches' Day _was the most popular women's magazine in the magical world, bar none. She could go around buying out every shop she could find, but it also had countless subscribers, and she couldn't exactly intercept every single delivery owl.

_Let's face it, _she thought resignedly. _By tomorrow _everyone_ is going to know about this._

It had been quite a while since she'd been the subject of gossip, and she'd forgotten how to deal with it. She and the rest of her friends who had fought on the winning side of the war were famous, she supposed, but they weren't celebrities. Almost none of them embraced the sudden surge of fame that had followed them after the downfall of Voldemort, and after a while the media had gotten bored of chasing them with no scandal to show for it.

That had been years ago, and she had gotten used to being just another person in the street. People rarely recognized her and that was the way she liked it. Hermione hoped that nobody cared enough about the 'Golden couple' anymore to talk about them.

She sighed, and was just about to turn around to leave when somebody tapped her on the shoulder. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Parvati, hi," said Hermione, recognizing the voice of her neighbor. "I was... er... nothing. Have you seen the spread about Harry and Ginny's wedding in _Magical Matrimonies_ yet? I swear, it took up half the magazine."

"Why, yes I did," said Parvati. "Though I'm glad they didn't include what happened at the reception. I can't _believe_ Lavender did that - but more importantly, are you alright?"

"You were-? Oh, of course. No, I'm fine now, thanks," said Hermione brightly. Of course Parvati had been there - she would have been Neville's date, and there was no way Neville wouldn't have been invited to the wedding. In fact, she even vaguely remembered briefly chatting with him before the ceremony, but with all that followed it totally slipped her mind. "Took a few tubs of ice cream, but I managed to eat all my woes away."

The other woman swept a quick glance over Hermione's face. "I can see that," she said with a good-natured smirk.

"Haha, ha," said Hermione, embarrassed. Why was it that whenever she saw Parvati, she was always at her worst? And of course, Parvati herself just happened to be immaculately dressed and made up. The difference between them had never been so gaping as it was now.

"Listen," Parvati said as she touched up her already perfect lipstick. "I was just on my way to go out for some drinks with a couple of girlfriends. You probably know a few of them - remember Hannah, and Angelina?"

"Yeah, definitely. Well I guess I'll see you later then," said Hermione, feeling totally irrelevant.

"Wait, wait. I'm not done talking yet. You want to come with us? Merlin knows you need a girls' night out right about now."

Hermione stared at her, surprised. "I wouldn't want to make things awkward for you. Thanks for the offer though."

"Not at all. The others already know about what happened, so they'll understand why I invited you," explained Parvati.

_Still the gossip queen,_ thought Hermione with a grimace. _On the other hand, I could do with a girls' night out._

Parvati must have seen her hesitate, because she began to smile widely. "Come on, let's make a stop back home and get you dressed up. Oooh, can I do your makeup for you?"

Half an hour later and clad in a skintight silver and black minidress and the highest heels Parvati had managed to find, Hermione tottered out of her apartment, her neighbor on her arm. The dress had been a cheeky birthday present from Ron, but she had been too embarrassed to wear it in public, so it had been hanging in the back of her wardrobe for years. She was amazed she still fit into it, but the ice cream and donuts definitely had an effect. Hermione was quite sure that last time she tried it on, it had not been this hard to breathe.

"You look _fabulous_," gushed Parvati, giving her a final once-over of approval. "That eyeshadow never suited me, but it totally brings out your eyes. Maybe I should just give it to you."

Hermione chuckled self-consciously. "Thanks a lot for this, Parvati. It's hard to believe that a week ago I didn't even know you lived next door to me."

"That's alright. I can't just ignore you when so much has happened," said Parvati. "And it's probably a good thing we didn't know, or else Lavender might have tried to come over everyday. She never did get over Ron, you know."

"Well, I hope they're happy now," said the brunette icily, but then she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to think of them tonight."

Parvati patted her soothingly. "And you shouldn't. It's not so bad being single, you know. I'm the only one with a boyfriend out of the girls tonight, and you have no idea how much that makes me miss the single life. Don't tell Neville though," she added quickly, grinning.

Hermione smiled back, and felt slightly better despite herself.

They made their way up Diagon Alley, chatting as they did so. It was already fairly dark, but Parvati navigated without difficulty and soon stopped outside a stylish bar. Hermione only had time to notice the number on the door - No. 392 - before she was dragged inside.

The bartender was a young brunette man, probably in his early twenties. He nodded at them as they barged inside and joined Parvati's friends at a table.

"Hermione!" said one of them, a blonde who Hermione faintly recognized as Hannah Abbott. "Do you remember me? It's been ages!"

"Hannah, isn't it? It's good to see you again," she said warmly.

The other women soon introduced themselves as well. A number of them Hermione already knew from school, and one or two looked familiar. They were all very kind, and made her feel like part of the group within minutes. The drinks that Parvati kept ordering helped, too; before she knew it, it was pitch black outside and the bar had become quite full. Several people had gone up to the small dance floor and were showing off their dance moves, much to the delight of the rest of the bar.

By this time Hermione was starting to feel more than a little woozy from the alcohol. When Angelina hauled her up to the dance floor with the rest of the women, she didn't protest and simply closed her eyes, bopping along lamely to the music. It was quite lovely music; not too hard and heavy like in clubs, but not so classical as to be impossible to dance to. Whoever owned the place had good taste, that was for sure.

She wasn't sure how long she danced for, but eventually she was aware that her feet - which were unused to wearing high heels - were starting to hurt. Reluctantly Hermione hobbled her way back to the table and sat down, taking off her shoes to nurse her feet. She reached for her half-finished cocktail to wet her dry throat, and downed it; then she finished off the beer next to it, too, for the sake of completion. And then just when she was about to pick up the third cocktail, it was suddenly replaced by a glass of water.

Hermione blinked a few times. Was she seeing things? Surely she wasn't that drunk yet. It had only been... oh, maybe five or ten drinks? She located the cocktail once again, and reached her hands out for it, but for the second time there was a blur and the cocktail disappeared, to be replaced by the same glass of water.

"What the hell?" she mumbled, frowning like a child being denied a toy, and rubbed her eyes.

"That won't help, Granger. You've had enough to drink. You should really have some water."

"Youuu said I've had 'nough to drink," slurred Hermione. "So I'm not gonna drink aaaanything anymore."

She heard a man chuckling in close proximity. "I almost like you better drunk. At least you listen to what I say." The glass was brought to her lips, and she licked at the ice-cold water hungrily. Soon she had emptied the entire glass's contents, and someone patted her on the back. "Good girl."

_Yes_, thought Hermione. It was her last coherent thought before she suddenly felt her stomach churn as it happily expelled everything she'd drank back up her throat - and onto the lap of the person next to her.

Just before she blacked out she saw Malfoy's face with its mixed expression of disgust and amusement, and thought to herself, _deeeeeeja vuuuu._

**xx-xx**


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Considering how long I take between updates nowadays, I feel like I should do a recap of what happened in the previous chaps so that you guys don't have to reread them._

_Quick recap: Hermione drags Draco to Ginny's wedding in order to try to make Ron jealous. Ron, however, seems to have thought up the same idea and brought along Lavender as his date. Drama ensues and Hermione, after a week of consoling herself, bumps into Parvati, who invites her to go to a bar for a night out. Unfortunately Hermione's a bit of a lightweight and proceeds to throw up on Draco and pass out..._

xx-xx

**Chapter Seven**

xx-xx

"Oh my," said a woman who was walking past.

_Understatement of the century,_ Draco thought wryly.

He was surprised by how cool and level-headed he felt, despite the mess in his lap. Hermione's head lolled between his legs; if she were any other girl and if this were any other situation that statement would be a very welcome one, but no. Just seeing her made that small tidal wave of guilt crash in his gut again.

Had she, in her sorrow, decided to drown herself in alchohol? It was possible, but for some reason he thought it wasn't like her to resort to that sort of measure.

Draco gingerly lifted her head off him and made a face as the smell of the vomit assaulted his nostrils. Perhaps this was karma, punishing him for the bad things he'd done. Trust him to find a career with one of the highest risks of being thrown up on. He supposed that he could count himself lucky that Hermione's aim was fairly good, and none of it had landed on the furniture. He wasn't the best with cleaning spells, and from what he'd seen none of the other staff were much better.

He sighed and was about to reach for his wand when he heard someone say, "_Scourgify!_"

Instantly his clothes were back in pristine condition. "Thanks," he said as he looked up. Sympathetic brown eyes met his and he recognized the owner as the Patil sister who was Hermione's neighbor. "You don't happen to be with her, would you?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Parvati. "I'm terribly sorry on her behalf... I'm sure she didn't mean to throw up on you."

"You mean you should be sorry for not looking after her," said Draco, a tad sharply.

Parvati noticed his tone and her picture-perfect smile twitched. "Well, yes. That too."

There was a pause, during which Draco gingerly lay Hermione's head on the couch. Without the vomit obstructing things, he could appreciate the softness of her hair and the smoothness of her skin - and the bags under her eyes, which even makeup couldn't completely hide. He stroked her cheek briefly and felt anger flare when he thought of how much she must had cried over that bastard.

But it was none of his business anymore. He stood up, sighing, and was about to leave when Parvati said, "Wait."

"What?" he said, turning his head slightly.

"With Hermione in that state, I don't feel confident about Apparating her back with me. Since you two seem pretty close... would you please let her rest here for tonight?" There was something in Parvati's face that told him she wasn't merely unloading her drunk friend onto him for her own convenience, and he wavered.

_You shouldn't be doing this_, his rational mind told him. _The less time you spend with her, the better. What if she finds out what you did?_

_Oh, shut up,_ said the part of his brain which was feeling the effects of the couple of drinks he had downed earlier.

"... Alright," said Draco. "But don't expect me to do this again."

Parvati smiled coyly. "Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't think of it."

She helped him lift Hermione over his shoulder, where she lay flopped over like a ragdoll. Suddenly, Parvati giggled, and Draco gave her a questioning look.

"She's wearing cute knickers," she grinned. "Candy stripes."

For some reason Draco felt a slight blush come over his cheeks. Fortunately for him, the dim lighting hid his face and she didn't notice. He had seen plenty of 'sexy' underwear in his time, but 'cute' was another matter entirely. "Well, I'd better get her upstairs," he said, tipping Parvati a wink that was entirely professional. "Do keep enjoying yourself, Parvati. And... thank you for taking her out tonight. I think she really needed it."

Parvati gave him a genuine smile. "It's alright. We all know what she's been through. Lavender is my best friend, but even _I_ don't approve of what she's done."

"I'll tell the bartender to send over a round of drinks for you and your friends," said Draco. "It's on the house."

She squealed and planted a kiss on the side of his face. "I trust Hermione will be safe with you tonight?" she smirked.

"Hah hah, very funny. I love it when people accuse me of being a rapist," he scowled. "Trust me, she's not exactly my type."

"If you say so," said Parvati, looking as if she didn't believe him at all.

"Yes, I do say so," he said, and headed towards the stairs.

"Don't forget about the drinks!" called Parvati from behind him, and he lifted a hand in response without turning around.

Draco had never had so much trouble going up those stairs as he did now. Provided, he had never had to carry someone akin to a dead body while he was ascending them, but it was taking all his strength to keep Hermione on his shoulder and not let her topple forwards down the stairs where she would undoubtedly sustain a horrific injury. By the time he finally reached the top, he was panting as he scrambled to fish out the keys from his pocket with his free hand.

It took a few moments of fumbling before he managed to get the door open. It was a small room, just enough to fit a couch and a desk, which was pretty much all he needed. He would escape to this room when he had paperwork to do and the music downstairs was way too loud for him to be able to accomplish anything within its immediate vicinity.

Fortunately the couch was right behind the door and he was able to finally lay Hermione down, much to the relief of his aching shoulder. Draco glanced around for something to cover her with, and, finding nothing, decided just to take off his robes and put it over her.

_Merlin, what am I doing? _he sighed inwardly. He gazed at her face and thought about what he had said to Parvati. It had not been a lie when he'd said that Hermione wasn't his type, but he hadn't mentioned that he was also starting to feel oddly protective of her. Maybe it was because he'd seen her go through so much, or the fact that he knew he was directly responsible for it. Certainly it couldn't be that he was starting to develop feelings for her. There was no way that would happen.

But despite telling himself that, he couldn't help but be annoyed at how helpless she was. She had passed out in a place where anyone could have taken advantage of her - though of course she had been lucky that she had chosen his bar. Not only did his bar generally attract decent folk, there was also the fact that he was the owner. He tried to imagine what could have happened if she was in a dingier place, and felt a queasy feeling rise in his stomach.

_It doesn't matter if you think you like her,_ a nasty little part of his brain reminded him. _If she ever finds out what you'd done, she would never forgive you - let alone _love_ you._

Draco shook his head. There was no point thinking about it now; she would be out of his life soon enough. And probably back with Weasley. But of course that was none of his business.

He placed a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, and took her pulse to make sure she could be left alone. Then, without a backward glance, he opened the door and headed back into the bar.

xxx-xxx

It took quite a while longer for Hermione to wake up this time, and when she finally did, it was on a couch in someplace she didn't recognize. There was a set of robes draped over her like a blanket, and she put them on, shivering a little. She wandered over to the window behind a delicate mahogany desk, and was surprised to see the bustle of Diagon Alley below. Clearly, she was still at whatever bar she had gone to last night.

There was a dull throbbing in her skull that she hadn't noticed until now, and she grimaced, rubbing her temples. Hermione decided that she was lucky that it was all she had to show for what she drank last night. It was vague, but she could recall the countless colorful drinks that kept appearing on their table, and the taste left in her mouth told her that she wasn't merely a spectator. She checked her handbag for anything that would lessen the hangover but it was a mess. Coins from her purse had fallen out into the bottom, and had mixed with business cards, spare tampons and whatever else she'd thrown in there but had forgotten about. Hermione dug around for a while but to no avail.

Well, it made sense. She hadn't expected to get that drunk, _or_ to wake up the next morning somewhere other than home.

And speaking of home, it was probably a good idea for her to get back to it. But first, she had to find whoever it was that had been so kind as to house her for the night.

She packed up her handbag, did one last check to make sure she had everything that she had left the house with, and then opened the door to the office. Going through the door led to her a flight of wooden stairs. Tentatively, Hermione went down, feeling for some reason like a burglar trying to escape. But surely there was no reason for her to think that way.

The bar that was at the bottom of the stairs was indeed the one she had gone to. However, whereas last night it had been full of people, music and life, it was now devoid of anyone. Except for the man standing behind the bar, deeply engrossed in some paperwork.

She got a little closer and almost dropped her bag when she realized that it was, in fact, Draco.

_Should've known,_ a voice told her. _You knew he owned a bar somewhere around here. And what bar owner in their right mind - who isn't secretly a rapist - would let a perfect stranger spend the night in his office?_

Hermione wanted to slap herself. Was there no end to the list of compromising and unsavory situations that Malfoy would see her in? She had never even let Ron or Harry see her drunk - it was fairly easy, since she rarely drank anyway - but now not only had she been stone drunk in Malfoy's bar, she had passed out as well. Who knew what she might have done? Or... what he might have done to her?

She suppressed a shudder, and took a deep breath before gingerly approaching the bar. "G-good morning," she stammered.

"Oh, you're up," said Draco, looking up from whatever he was reading. "Finally."

"Well, excuse me for needing sleep," she retorted.

He brushed a hand through his hair, amused. "I suppose I should be grateful that you didn't die of alcohol poisoning in your sleep, considering how much you drank last night."

"Um... how much _did_ I drink?" asked Hermione.

Draco glanced over at her and laughed at the worried expression on her face. Then, abruptly, his face straightened. "You puked on me. That's how much."

She gaped at him. "A-are you sure?"

"I'm not having a go at you, if that's what you mean. You can ask Parvati, she was there too."

"Oh Merlin. I'm so sorry," she groaned, putting her face into her hands. She could feel the heat of a blush spreading through her cheeks, and she shook her head. How could she have let herself go so easily? Now Parvati would probably be angry at her for ruining her night. And after she had been so kind as to invite her, too...

"... And then she had the nerve to offload you on me," Draco scowled as he tapped at his calculator. "I told her she should have been keeping an eye on you. You probably shouldn't drink with that bunch anymore if you don't want to pass out everytime."

Hermione stared.

"What?" he said, annoyed.

"Are you... _worried_ about me?"

Draco's hand jerked, making the calculator clack loudly against the table. "_No,_ I'm not bloody worried about you. I'm just telling you not to be a liability."

"Now now, Draco," she said, leaning across his table and smirking at him. "No need to be bashful. We're all adults here."

"You need to stop doing that," he said, glancing away.

"Doing what? Teasing you?"

He shrugged and looked her in the eye. "You wouldn't want to see _my_ jinx repertoire, now would you?"

She simply grinned. "Well, why don't you show me. I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle."

There was a flurry of movement, and the next moment Hermione found her face a centimeter from Draco's, his hand grasping her chin. "You need to stop being so bloody _vulnerable _in front of me all the time," he said, his eyelids half-mast.

Hermione opened her mouth, but no snarky remark came out. She could only stare into his eyes and count his blonde eyelashes as she tried to distract herself from the fact that this was happening at all. Her heart was thumping painfully against her ribcage; in fact, he could probably hear it too. How could he not? It sounded like cannon shots to her.

Then, suddenly, he broke into a smirk and let go of her. She stumbled backwards and almost fell on her backside but was saved from utter humiliation by a bar stool. "How was that? Pretty effective, wasn't it?" he said as he looked down again and continued working on his accounts.

"What the hell was that?" she screeched at him. "It wasn't a jinx, it was sexual harassment, you- you sexual deviant!"

"It's not sexual harassment if you liked it," said Draco mildly.

"I did not- why, I never-" she spluttered, flushing pink. "Argh! You're such a jerk!"

"Yes, I know. Now sod off," he said, waving a hand. "I expect you'll need quite a while to recover from this traumatic event."

He waited a while, pretending to look busy until she would inevitably storm out and slam the door. When a minute passed and he didn't hear any sign of movement, he looked back up and was amazed to see her still standing there, looking sheepish.

"I know you're trying to get rid of me, and I understand that, but..." Hermione tugged at her hair, embarrassed. "I feel bad for making you have to take care of me. And throwing up on you. I swear I didn't plan it."

Draco sighed. "Don't worry about it. Really. You can go home."

But he had already seen the determined gleam in her eyes. "Why don't I help you with your accounts?" she offered, and he rolled his eyes. "No, really. I remembered you were always pretty bad at maths."

"I was _never_ bad at ma-"

By then she was already by his side, poring over his papers. "Hmm. You've miscalculated those wages. And also, you have to add this one, not subtract it."

He tried to snatch the papers away, but her hand was firm on them, so in an act of defiance he snatched the calculator instead. Not that it made any difference - he should have known that she wouldn't even need a calculator. Appearing not to have noticed it was gone, Hermione was intently adding up all the figures, muttering to herself under her breath as she did so.

"Hermione, stop," pleaded Draco, trying another tactic. "I should really do this myself."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, not looking up. "You can have a look at it after I'm finished if you're worried about not knowing what's going on. And besides, I'm just doing it this one time. Did you think I was going to become your personal accountant or something?"

"I could do with an accountant, but that's beside the point. You don't have to do this! Don't you have work today?"

"No, I have fridays off," replied Hermione. "Now go sit down and stop bothering me."

"_You're_ the one bothering _me_," Draco grumbled, but did as he was told. He sat at the bar a few seats from her and opened the day's copy of _The Daily Prophet_, peering at Hermione now and then to make sure she wasn't doing anything she wasn't supposed to.

By the time he had reached the business section, Hermione was done. She did one last check and triumphantly handed the accounts back to him to read. Draco scanned them and grudgingly admitted that she had done perfectly in twenty minutes something that would have taken him at least an hour.

"Your handwriting is sloppy," he said, desperately trying to come up with something that would make him feel superior again. "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to write the number seven? Yours look like ones."

She scowled. "Shut up. They still look a hell of a lot better than yours."

Satisfied that he had won that small battle, Draco collected all the papers and tidied them into a neat pile. "Well, this makes us even."

"I... guess I'll go home, then," said Hermione awkwardly.

There was a moment's silence where neither of them looked each other in the eye. Hermione could feel the gravity again - the one that made her not want to leave his presence. She told herself it was because she hadn't talked to someone like Draco in quite some time and she appreciated his intelligence and wit, even though it was often at her expense. But wasn't she supposed to hate him? He had, after all, totally ruined her relationship with Ron.

And yet, it was clear that Draco did not want her here. She didn't blame him; after all, if someone had puked on her and then had to be looked after for the night, she wouldn't be terribly please with them either.

Hermione glanced up at him and jolted a little when she saw that he was watching her. "You're welcome to visit my bar again," he said, and then smirked. "Of course, as long as you hold in the contents of your stomach next time. At least in front of me."

"You can count on that," she said darkly. "There's no way I'm ever getting that drunk again." She started for the door and was halfway there when she remembered something. "Um, your robes," she said, about to take them off and hand them back.

Draco held up a hand. "Keep them. I'm sure you wouldn't want to flash your candy-striped knickers at everyone, now would you?"

Instantly, Hermione flushed a deep red. "You saw my _knickers_? What the hell were you doing to me in my sleep?"

"For your information, that was second-hand intelligence from Parvati," he said, grinning. "Did you really think I would want to see them? Honestly, you should know better."

"I don't know _what_ to think," she said, rolling her eyes. She fastened the robes around herself again, and opened the door. "Well, thanks again. And see you around."

"Goodbye, Hermione," Draco replied simply.

xxx-xxx

Because she was so familiar with the building in which she lived, Hermione would usually Apparate directly onto her floor, mere metres away from her front door. Of course every apartment had protective magic that prevented people from Apparating _into_ the home, so that was about as lazy as she could get. But today she felt like she should work off her mild hangover by walking up the stairs. Not to mention it had been quite some time since she had last bothered to exercise.

By the time Hermione had reached the final flight of steps before her own floor, she could sense that somebody else was there. She thought nothing of it until she went up and saw, with some degree of shock, that it was Ron. He was sitting on the ground with his back against her door, dozing. Clearly he had been unable to unlock the charms she had put on the lock.

_How long has he been here?_ she thought. She moved tentatively closer and squatted next to him, wondering what she should do. The sight of his sleeping face made her crack a smile, but that soon vanished when she reminded herself of what had happened. The thought of letting him in was unappealing, but she couldn't bring herself to just leave him out here.

"Ron," she said, shaking him by the shoulders. "Wake up, Ron."

He groaned, eyelids flickering. When he saw who it was, his eyes snapped open and he quickly wiped his mouth. "'Mione!"

"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply. "If you had the audacity to think you could just come waltzing back here-"

"'Mione, I'm so sorry," said Ron loudly, interrupting her. He pulled her into an embrace and she let him, too surprised to resist. "I wasn't thinking. I was so angry when I found that asshole in our house that everything went red and all logic went flying out the door."

She pushed him away, despite realizing how much she had missed the comfort of his arms. "Malfoy explained the situation to me. It wasn't his fault, really - and if you'd bothered to _listen_ to our explanation, things wouldn't have turned out that way."

"I-" he started, and then faltered. "I know... I shouldn't have doubted you like that. But imagine you were in my shoes. If you had come home to see me with a half-naked Lavender, what would _you_ think?"

"The situation is different," Hermione shot at him. "You and Lavender have a history. In case you forgot, Ronald, Draco and I are not exactly on the best of terms."

Ron looked bemused. "Draco? Since when did you call-"

"Anyway, I would have given you the benefit of the doubt," she continued hotly, realizing her slip of the tongue but not really caring at this stage. "Though not that it matters anymore. You showing up at Ginny's wedding with Lavender told me that much at least."

He flushed. "_She_ approached _me_! A-and... I was going to tell her to get lost, but then she said that it would make you jealous, so I... besides, _Malfoy_ was your date. How do you explain _that_?"

Hermione thought she was about to cry. "Did it ever occur to you, Ron, that maybe I was trying to do the same thing? That Malfoy wasn't actually my date? You know, I only brought him to clear up the misunderstanding, but after Lavender's proclaimation... well, suffice to say he was just defending me at that point. It didn't help that you also didn't bother to correct her-"

"Like I said, I was just trying to-"

"Did it make you feel like you won, when you saw my face when-"

"_No!_" Ron roared suddenly, and she stared at him, sniffling. "No, Hermione, it didn't," he said, softly now, and she fancied that she could see a tear in his eye.

But it wasn't enough to shake her. Hermione was well aware that it was rather hypocritical of her, being so mad at Ron when she herself had brought along Draco as her fake date for the same purpose of making him jealous. She had also neglected to mention the amount of the time she had spent with Draco in between the initial misunderstanding and now. Although there was nothing particularly worth hiding, for some reason she wanted to keep those moments to herself.

On the other hand, she couldn't imagine that Lavender would have just quietly stayed home during that time, either. She doubted Ron would have really cheated on her, but... the thought still niggled uncomfortably in the back of her head.

And then, ironically, her brain dredged up the memory of how Draco had nearly kissed her only a short while ago - and how she hadn't pushed him away. Oh, she certainly was hypocrisy at its finest. Hermione felt a faint blush crawl onto her cheeks, and she shook her head, trying to clear the recollection from her head.

"Look, Ron," she said, feeling her hangover throbbing in her brain as she spoke. "I think that... maybe we should have a break. Just for a couple of weeks. Once we've both cooled our heads, we can talk about it again. I'm sure by then this will all seem awfully petty, but right now..."

To her surprise, he nodded slowly. "To be honest, I've thought about it myself as well. It's been hard this past week without you, but I think it's a good idea."

Hermione found herself slightly irked that he hadn't even tried to argue against her proposal, but at the same time she felt a huge weight fall off her chest. Now that they had had the obligatory encounter in the aftermath of the drama, she felt like there was no longer an impending doom looming in the horizon for her to face. "Well... that's settled, then," she said awkwardly, standing up on legs that had almost fallen asleep.

"Yeah," said Ron. "I'll just go grab some of my things then, shall I?"

"I'm sorry for kicking you out like this," she said. "It's just tha-"

"No, it's fine," he replied, smiling wanly. "I understand. The Burrow is another home for us, remember. It's not like I'm camping out somewhere, freezing my balls off."

Hermione grinned, and let him in. "Take my bag. You know, the charmed one. You can fit whatever you need in there."

He packed in silence while she stood around, trying not to get in his way. Within minutes, he was done, and slung the bag over his shoulder with a grimace. "See you later, 'Mione," Ron said, on his way out. "You know where to find me."

"Yeah. I'll... talk to you later." She gave him a tense smile, and watched as he Disapparated away.

Hermione shut the door and leaned back against it. The tears came, as she expected; but at the same time, her heart was singing to her that this was the best thing she had done for herself all week.

**xx-xx**


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I apologize for the immensely long break, but I just dug up half of the next chapter of this fic that I'd written ages ago and thought I'd give you guys at least one more (monster) chapter. Seriously, I don't know how this chapter got so long. Well, enjoy! If anyone's still reading, that is... lol. _

_Quick recap of the previous chapter: Hermione throws up on Draco at his bar one night and passes out. Grudgingly, he lets her sleep over. After a hangover, a near-kiss and some accounting, Hermione returns home to find Ron at her doorstep - and, to her surprise, he agrees with her suggestion that they should take a break from their relationship. _

xx-xx

**Chapter Eight**

xx-xx

It had only been a week since he had last seen Hermione, but Draco had already been plagued by countless triggers that had reminded him of her. On Wednesday another overzealous customer had thrown up on the side of the dance floor, and his employees had been rather alarmed when they'd noticed the stupid grin on his face when he was cleaning it up; the next day, when he had walked past the coffee shop he had taken her to, he could have sworn he'd seen her inside, reading a gossip magazine. Then he'd laughed at himself for even considering it. Granger would never read trashy magazines - her 'holier-than-thou' attitude and pride wouldn't let her be caught dead with something like that.

Then today, when he pulled out his accounts book and saw her neat, firm handwriting on last week's page (he'd lied about her 7s, of course - they were perfectly legible), he felt a lurch in gut. He had gone slightly too far last week, but her incessant teasing had warranted it, really. The idea was to shut her up with as little effort as possible. Somehow, he had been foolish enough to listen to his body when it told him that kissing her would be the best way to go about it. It was lucky that he had stopped himself just in time to be able to pass it off as a joke, but simply thinking about how close he had come to actually touching her lips made him break out in cold sweat.

Seeing the accounts also reminded him that he had not gone to Problem Solvers Inc. for quite some time. Clare had kept true to her word and hadn't sent him any assignment-related owls since he had last seen her. She had, however, passed along a nonchalant letter about how much Dean was driving her up the wall with his complaints about his workload - and gee, wouldn't it be really great if somebody could help him out?

Draco had chuckled to himself when he'd read the letter, but didn't pay attention to its contents. Before getting his extra clients, Dean used to complain about _not_ getting enough assignments; either way he was going to complain, so surely the cause of his despair didn't matter very much. Besides, he knew Dean loved his job and the perks that came with it. Suffice to say that there was a strong correlation between the number of assignments he got per week and how much he would boast about getting laid in that same window of time.

It was a practice that was frowned upon, although it didn't really stop any of the agents from indulging in it. In fact, Draco himself had crossed that line a few times and had thought nothing of it - until now. Technically Granger wasn't his client, but for Merlin's sake, he was investing far too much brainpower on her that could be better spent elsewhere.

He sighed, and flipped through his accounts again to check on some expenses from the previous month. Although the major renovations for his bar had been completed some time ago, there was now the matter of finding an interior designer to co-ordinate the furniture with the newly painted walls. He had put it off for long enough, and he had heard more than one customer remark on the odd combination of silver walls and ocher couches.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a grey shape swoop in through a window, and looked up just in time to see the owl come to a graceful stop on the bar stool in front of him. There was a small note tied to its leg. Draco leaned forward and untied it, recognizing Clare's spidery font at once. Ignoring the owl's expectant look, he unfurled the parchment fully to read.

_Dear Draco,_

_That client of yours came around again. She insists on thanking you personally for the service you did her. I told her to sod off, but I thought I'd let you know just in case she turns out to be another stalker. Merlin knows we've had enough of those to deal with._

_Clare_

_PS: Can you pretty please come in and pick up an assignment or two? Dean said he was recognized on the street the other day by a client's furious ex and had to Apparate the hell outta there._

Grimacing, he crumpled up the note and tossed it into the bin. The owl's golden eyes followed the paper ball with interest as it arced through the air. Surmising that surely the blond man would have a treat for it now, the bird turned its feathery head towards Draco again, only to find him once again deep in thought.

Draco had a fairly good idea who his client was, but he definitely had no desire to meet her. When he had first accepted the case, he never expected to end up in _Granger's_ bed of all places, but even when he'd snuck in and spotted the familiar bushy brown hair he'd thought that it would just be a job like any other. Who cares if he knew the couple he was to break up? It wasn't the first time, certainly, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Of course, that was what he'd thought. Hermione had proven to be unusually persuasive with her wand and he had somehow tangled himself up in the mess he'd started. It was simply fortunate for him that he'd heard enough gossip about her neighbor's love life from customers at the bar to build up a convincing enough lie, so that he could satisfy the client's request that the couple should not be informed that the incident was, in fact, no accident at all.

He also hadn't expected himself to stand up for her back then at the wedding. What was he trying to prove? It wasn't as if he was still playing his role of a man who had made an innocent mistake and was now trying to right his wrong - after all, she had no longer been in earshot. Looking back on it now, he could see that even then he had already begun to get attached to her. Funnily enough the more he liked her the more his lie seemed to grow, until it rapidly became the elephant in the room that only he could see.

It was fairly clear to him that she also seemed to be developing feelings for _him_, if her drunken babbling that night and her reluctance to leave the next morning was any indication. Draco thought he'd kept up a fairly cool exterior whenever he interacted with her, but apparently he hadn't tried hard enough.

_Almost kissing her can hardly be considered as keeping up a cool exterior, _his mind whispered. _It's called 'flirting' - surely something you're familiar with._

"I am _not_," he said heatedly, out loud.

The only response he got was from the owl, which gave him a disgusted look and continued preening itself.

Feeling rather stupid now, Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was supposed to be doing his accounts, not indulging in regret. Damn that Clare for interrupting him. Then there was the problem of the bird sitting in front of him. "Shoo," he told it, waving an arm in its face.

The owl hooted indignantly as his fingers brushed its feathers and pecked him, drawing a pained yelp. Seemingly satisfied that it had had its revenge on the stingy man who refused to give it treats, the owl spread its wings and left through the same window from which it had come.

"Sod you, too," muttered Draco as he nursed his hand.

xxx-xxx

Tuesday morning saw Draco walking out of the Problem Solvers building, having finally succumbed to Clare's - and later, Dean's - pleading. The man had shown up at his bar one evening sporting an impressive black eye that made even Draco wince. That, and the fact that he didn't want to risk Dean coming again and bringing in violent characters, finally swayed him and he grudgingly took on some of the new assignments.

Besides, he figured it would be good to have something to keep himself busy. Compared to all that had happened two weeks ago, normal life was beginning to seem rather dull.

He made his way down Diagon Alley, absent-mindedly noting various things on his to-do list as he did so. Passing the robe shop reminded him that he still hadn't returned Blaise's white dress robes, which were probably lying in a rumpled heap somewhere in Draco's apartment - not that he'd ever tell Blaise that. The man took his fashion seriously and Draco was not one for getting his ass kicked simply over a piece of clothing.

And not far along was the coffee shop. _His_ coffee shop, he liked to call it, even though he had no desire to ever pursue ownership. Despite having had breakfast not too long ago, he couldn't help but stop to look through the menu, peeking surreptitiously through the window as he did so. He had no illusions that she would conveniently be there, giving him an excuse to go in - which was why, when he actually spotted a brown bushy head, he suddenly became quite aware of his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

_It's probably not even her,_ he told himself as his body automatically went through the familiar sequence of pushing open the door, avoiding the parrot, and threading his way through towards his usual table. She was sitting with her back to him, so he couldn't see her face; but something told him that he was right and he decided to take a chance. Breathing in deeply and assuming an air of utter confidence, Draco strode towards the table and pulled out the chair opposite her. Then, he sat down and looked.

To his immense relief, it was Hermione's shell-shocked eyes that greeted him. "D-Draco?" she stammered, and her cup seemed to echo her, clattering slightly as she tried to set it down onto its platter. "I didn't- I mean, of course, this _is _your-"

"Told you this place was amazing," he said, and she relaxed, nodding in agreement.

"They certainly make the best cinnamon buns I've ever tasted," she said, gesturing to the empty plate in front of her.

A moment of awkward silence followed, where neither of them could bring themselves to look the other in the eye. Hermione was berating herself for still thinking about that near-kiss all those weeks ago, and Draco was equally busy trying to convince himself that no, he wasn't all _that_ glad to talk to her.

Finally Hermione coughed, and broke the moment. "So... how have you been?"

"Things have been looking up since you vomited on me," he said with a mockingly radiant smile.

"I'm sure," she replied dryly, and indicated towards the folders he'd put on the table. "What are those?"

Draco made a face. "I tried to offload all my assignments onto Dean, but that didn't quite work out. He did a bit of a shoddy job with several clients which means _I've _been told to pick up his slack and fix the problems."

"You mean you're going to pick up your own slack," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Give me a break. I couldn't follow you around _and_ find ways to sneak into people's houses every other night."

"I'm telling you, you shouldn't work at Problem Solvers anymore," she said. "It's a dishonest business."

Draco paused, then gave her a terse smile. "I know. My problem, not yours."

The look on Hermione's face instantly made him regret his choice of words, and he suddenly remembered that he'd never even told her why he was employed at Problem Solvers Inc. There was a part of him that wanted to tell her so that she'd stop thinking he was working there for his own perverted kicks - but the timing wasn't right. Besides, the less they dwelled on the topic, the better for them both.

"Actually, that's not quite true anymore," he said quickly. His head dipped for a moment, then he looked back up at her with a genuinely apologetic look. "You're involved now, too. Sorry."

She stared at him and felt her mouth involuntarily turn into an 'O'. Was that her imagination, or did he finally step over his pride and say what she thought he'd said? Had she been much more irritated at what he'd said she probably would have missed it, but that was definitely...

"Hermione?"

"Y-you apologized," she said, stunned.

"Huh? Oh, right." Draco scratched his head in embarrassment. "Whoop-dee doo. You finally got an apology out of a Malfoy. Well done."

"Like blood from a stone," she muttered, though somewhere inside she felt like prancing around and gloating that she'd wringed it out of him. "But not that it's going to do me any good now. It's too late to salvage things with Ron."

"What happened? Finally decided to stop indulging in bestiality?" he asked her nonchalantly.

Hermione threw him a dirty look. "No, arsehole. I saw him a few weeks ago. We decided it was best for us to take a break from each other."

"Just like that?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow. "Did you get to tell him your side of the story, at least?"

She sighed. "Yes, we explained ourselves. Turns out he was roughly aiming for the same effect with Lavender as I was with you. No points for guessing who told Lavender what was up."

"Well that would explain why your dear neighbor was so good to you that night she took you out," he said thoughtfully. "Guess she's got a conscience after all."

"Parvati's a born gossip. I can't blame her for telling her best friend something that was guaranteed to be fresh news," grinned Hermione. "Besides, I really did enjoy myself that evening. She chose a good time to give me a little pick-me-up."

"If you say so," Draco replied with a shrug, watching as she rolled her eyes again and took a long sip of her tea. He still thought that Parvati had been a little too eager to have him take care of Hermione, whether it was for matchmaking purposes or just so she could enjoy herself without worrying about her unconscious guest, but the two women were neighbors and it was probably best if he didn't incite any ill feelings between them. He'd already caused plenty of uproar in that apartment building.

The only problem was that the woman had probably done a better job than she'd thought. Draco replayed that next morning in his head again, and it was clear as day - he had not even come close to being the aloof jerk that he'd planned on being. Which was a shame, because he'd been practising the whole time she was still asleep upstairs, but as soon as she was actually there his mind had just gone blank. Acting was definitely not his strong point.

And now it was like she was feeding him a tasty morsel of information that he just had to take advantage of. She was effectively single, for Merlin's sake. Anybody on a break from a relationship was fair game. That was the rule, and damned if he didn't want to take up the opportunity.

_Don't do this,_ his mind warned him. _You're going to be in for a world of pain when she finds out the truth._

That was true. He'd been the one to break her and Weasley up, all for a crapload of gold and silver. The only reason she had fallen for him was because she honestly believed that he had made a mistake, and had been earnestly trying to make up for it by helping her. Which, in the end, he really _was_ doing of his own accord.

Draco glanced over at the woman in question. Hermione was looking at him quizzically, no doubt wondering why he'd suddenly gone so quiet. The mouth from which so many terrible spells and scathing remarks would come out of was quirked slightly to the side. Funny to think he had almost kissed that mouth. He fantasized for a second about what it might feel like to actually do it, and then gave himself the biggest mental slap he had had for a long time.

"Um," said Hermione. There was annoyance on her face now, and her teacup was drained. He'd wasted too much time.

"I was wondering," he began.

"Clearly," she said. "What is it?"

_You are going to regret this, _his guilty conscience hissed.

_I don't care,_ he thought giddily, then said to her: "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

Hermione furrowed her brows. "That depends. Are you asking me on a _date_?"

"No. Yes. Maybe. What's it to you?" he shot back in panic, then realized how stupid he sounded. "I mean, yes, I am."

She gaped at him and very quickly turned a bright shade of tomato. "Wh-wh-what? I was just kid- I mean, I-"

"Well I wasn't kidding," Draco said, amused by her reaction. "You're a lucky woman. I don't usually do dates, you know. Malfoy time tends to be precious."

"That is _not_ how you get a woman to go on a date with you," she retorted. "Let me tel-"

There was a pause as something evidently clicked in Hermione's head. Then suddenly, she began to smirk.

"This isn't good," he groaned.

She rubbed her hands together in glee. "Oh no, Draco. It's going to be very good. Hey, why don't you show me the fruits of _your_ education in the fine art of courtship? Then maybe I'll think about your proposition."

Draco stared at her for a moment, trying to recall what she was talking about. He thought back to the last time they were in this cafe and what they had discussed. That had been before the wedding, and she had asked him to go with her... _Oh Merlin._

In an instant all the memories flooded back to him, overlaid by the shadow of an intense urge to piss himself. "No more feathers," he said sharply, wrapping his arms around himself in protection.

"Aw," said Hermione, looking disappointed. "That had been your best trick. You looked rather adorable in that chair, trying so very hard not to wet your pants."

He flipped her the bird, still piqued that she had managed to force such a scene out of him.

"Try harder," she said in reply, shaking her head sadly. "I'm still not getting the vibe that you really want to go on a date with me."

"You want me to show you my wooing talents? That's easy," he sneered, and then leaned across the table and kissed her.

Cheering erupted somewhere vaguely behind him, but Draco was too busy to pay much attention. Her lips tasted like tea, though it was probably her sheer surprise that was the most delicious. He was quite sure that he had won that little challenge. It had been brave of her to try him without thinking it through, and to be honest he was quite happy to show her what he could do anyway.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not feeling quite so victorious. In fact she wasn't feeling much at all aside from Draco's mouth on hers. Of course, she was immensely shocked and her mind had quickly become devoid of any coherent thought, but the kiss was proving to be much too distracting for her body to come up with some sort of retaliation. _Don't let him stop,_ screeched the one thought she could understand, and she complied, standing up from her chair to grab him roughly by the collar and press herself closer.

"Get a room!" yelled somebody from the other side of the room, and laughter and wolf-whistles followed.

That had the intended effect, and the two leapt apart as if struck by lightning.

Hermione blushed furiously as she smoothed her skirt and sat back down, gulping ineffectively from her empty teacup to try to calm herself down. What had she just done? That had most certainly _not_ been Ron, but she had kissed him back and had wanted it to continue. It had been mere weeks since they'd decided to go on break - not to mention they hadn't even really broken up for real yet.

_Yet_, she thought, mortified. She didn't know where her brain had dug up that word and how it had plastered it to the end of her internal monologue, but she was getting more and more confused. Clearly, it had been a bad idea to challenge Draco to something that was, in hindsight, obviously his realm of expertise.

"That was... a surprisingly passionate answer," she heard Draco say, somewhat dazedly.

"It's-it's all your fault!" she screeched. "I didn't mean to do that!"

The infuriatingly familiar smirk was on his face. "Meet you here tomorrow at 6pm, then?"

Hermione felt heat flaring in her cheeks as she threw him a murderous look. "I-"

"Good, good. Dress nicely, alright? Something a little more like what you were wearing at my bar." Draco stood and pushed in his chair, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'll be going, then. See you tomorrow."

"Urgh! I hate you!" hissed Hermione, slamming her hand on the table.

"That's cute," he called as he expertly made his way to the door. "But of course you don't really mean that."

xxx-xxx

It was of little surprise to them both when Draco arrived the next evening to find Hermione already at their table, sulkily downing a pot of tea on her own. In what defiance she could muster, she'd worn an outfit that she thought was the least like the silver minidress. The hoodie was an impulse buy that was incredibly warm but wasn't something any self-respecting living creature would want to be caught dead in, while the track pants had long passed middle age and was heading rapidly into senility. She suspected that even the Salvation Army wouldn't want to touch either of them with a ten-foot pole.

Draco wasn't pleased, but he'd expected her to make things difficult for him. He was actually somewhat impressed that she'd made such an effort to go against his word. Nevertheless, he'd already considered the possibility and had plenty of plans.

"You have never looked less attractive. Quite a feat," he told her, and she simpered at him.

"I do my best for you, _darling_."

His mouth twitched despite himself. "Much appreciated. Still, this is a momentous occasion in your life, and I can't have you parading around in a sack. Let's go."

Hermione frowned at him. "Go where? I thought we were just going to stay here."

"That wouldn't be much fun. Firstly we're going to get you some proper clothes, and then we'll decide what to do next," announced Draco, pouring the rest of the tea for himself and downing it in a single gulp. In truth he hadn't actually thought much about where he was going to take her tonight, seeing as he'd spent the whole of last night trying to decide whether he should really follow through with his impulse invitation or not, but hopefully he would be able to think of something on the spot.

"You know, I'm quite comfortable in these clothes," said Hermione. "I'd rather not change."

"If I don't make you, you're going to regret it forever when you see yourself in the magazines tomorrow," Draco replied.

She blanched. "Damn. I didn't think of that."

"That incident at Weasley's wedding is going to put you in the spotlight for a while. Don't think you're going to be able to waltz around in any sort of get-up without somebody making a comment about it. Especially with me by your side."

A faint blush tinged her cheeks. "I... see your point. Give me a moment, I'll go home and change."

Draco held up a hand. "No need. I've decided that I'd rather have a trusted advisor orchestrate your outfit tonight than rely on your judgment."

"My judgment is just fine," said Hermione hotly.

"I'm sure it is," he drawled.

Despite her protests, Hermione let Draco lead her to the door and Apparate them both to wherever the hell he had in mind. All the tea and nerves seemed to act on her at once, and when they arrived she had to sit down for a moment on the ground, feeling the world spinning around her head and inside her abdomen.

She had hoped to downplay the significance of the night by treating it as casually as she could, but the fact that he really _was_ taking her out suddenly hit her with the force of a speeding train. Hermione Granger was on a date with Draco Malfoy. It sounded so strange, yet she was undeniably happy about it. Last night had been one of the best nights she'd had since Draco had inadvertently made his way into her life. Despite all the doubt, paranoia and guilt that plagued her, she felt like a schoolgirl again, and had spent way too long deciding what to wear and not nearly enough time on finishing the report that she was supposed to submit at work this morning.

Of course, nothing beat the sheer relief she'd felt when she saw him walk through the door. The biggest niggling thought by far was that he wouldn't show up, but it looked like he hadn't simply been joking after all. Hermione had been both excited and anxious about what that would mean for them.

"Hermione."

She jumped at his voice and looked up at him. "Uh, sorry. I'm fine. I can't say the same for your Side-Along Apparition skills, though, that was just terrible."

Draco scowled. "Like yours was much better. If you're done sitting around, we'll go inside." He gestured at the shop in front of them.

Hermione's gaze followed his hands and she took in the carefully positioned classic lettering on the shop sign and the elegant gowns on display in the windows. "Draco, we're in the wrong place."

He grabbed her arm and helped her up. "No, we're in just the place we need. Well, you need."

"I'm saving for my pension, you know, I don't have this kind of money lying around."

"It's on me," he replied. "Now let's stop wasting time."

The interior was about as extravagant as Hermione had expected. Crystal chandeliers floated near the ceiling in strategic spots, casting warm light into every corner of the spacious store. There were only a few racks of clothing, but as far as she could see each dress only had one size. This was clearly not a store that catered to the masses. This was the kind of store where if the customer didn't fit into the clothes, it was not the shop that would order more sizes - it was the _customer_ who would be expected to slim down or bulk up.

Surreptitiously Hermione's hand went into the pocket of her hoodie and she pinched her belly. The flab was there, but fortunately it had gone down since she'd stopped having three square meals of ice cream and chocolate every day. If she was lucky they'd find something that would fit.

Draco had gone further into the shop, leaving her to look at the clothes alone. She approached the nearest rack and brushed her fingers through the surprising variety of fabrics. Out of instinct, she picked up a price tag and looked. Quickly she wished she hadn't. Her Gringotts vault was healthily full, but even so the numbers she saw gave her palpitations.

Nevertheless, the gowns were gorgeous. Each piece was cut with the greatest of precision and there was not a loose stitch to be seen anywhere. Her eyes stopped at a sea green dress and she paused, wondering if she dared to handle it. It was one-shoulder, with a subtle smattering of what looked suspiciously like real diamonds around an artful scrunch of fabric that gave it a relaxed yet defined silhouette. Hermione felt her hands itching to reach for the hanger to get a better look, and she was about to comply when she heard Draco's voice.

"... you to find something for her," he was saying to someone. She poked her head out from behind the rack and caught his eye. "Ah, there she is."

"I see why you called me to help," said the dark-skinned man beside him, wrinkling his nose. "Granger, when you change out of those I want you to burn them in a bonfire."

"Zabini?" said Hermione incredulously.

"That's me," said Blaise. "Draco asked me to help pick out something nice for your precious little date tonight."

Draco rolled his eyes in the background. "Just do your job, Blaise. Less talk, more action."

"Trust me, whatever I pick out will get Granger plenty of action." He winked at her.

"Not with _you_, I hope," said Hermione.

Blaise chuckled. "Still plenty of attitude, huh? Alright, Draco, what did you have in mind for the lovely lady?"

"Hmm," said the blond, scanning the displays. "What about that one? Bring it down for us," he said to the shop assistant.

Hermione stared. It was black, and looked only marginally wider than a belt. "You're kidding."

"It looks shorter than it really is, ma'am," said the shop assistant.

"I'm actually kind of curious to see how it looks," said Blaise, smirking.

"Put it on," commanded Draco.

"No!" exclaimed Hermione. "_You_ wear it!"

Draco stifled a laugh. "That could be interesting. But no, really. I think you'd look great in it. Just give it a try."

She glared at him for a moment, then snatched it from his hands before storming off. A moment later she had disappeared into the changing rooms.

"Interesting choice of woman," commented Blaise. "From what I remember, you hated her."

Draco waved a hand. "A lot has happened since then. Things have changed."

"You were the one who made her single, though."

"I've made amends."

"Does she know that somebody paid y- _OW!_" yelped Blaise, nursing his shin. "Okay, okay. Calm the hell down."

"Not a word to her. Got it?" hissed Draco.

Blaise made a face. "Fine. Have it your way."

At that moment the changing room door opened, and the shop assistant led Hermione out. "Wow," breathed Draco, a grin creeping onto his face. Cleavage, check. Lots of leg, check. The only thing that took away the sexy from the overall picture was her unkempt hair and polka dot socks, but that could easily be remedied later.

"Major understatement," said Blaise, whistling in appreciation.

"This is way too short," said Hermione. She tugged at the hem to no avail, and the shop assistant gave her a look as if she wanted to slap Hermione's hand away.

Blaise walked around her and made an inspection. "A little tight in some areas, but it could definitely work. You'd get a lot of attention in this dress, Granger, whether you like it or not."

"That would be a problem," mused Draco. "I don't want to be fending off sleazebags all night."

She looked relieved. "Glad we're on the same wavelength. Seriously, can I just go home and change? I promise not to come back in track pants again."

"No way," said Blaise, eyes gleaming as if he'd suddenly found purpose in life. He swiveled around quickly and plucked a red number off a rack behind him. "Try this next!"

"Are we finding me an outfit or playing dress-up?" grumbled Hermione, but she complied and went back into the changing room.

"I'm impressed," Blaise said as he turned to Draco again. "I didn't think she had it in her, but in something like that she could definitely make the list."

"Blaise, don't put her on your fucking list," said Draco. "If you do, I'll burn your entire wardrobe in that bonfire along with Hermione's hideous ensemble." It was common knowledge that Blaise Zabini valued his sartorial collection more than his mother, friends and lovers, and being his best friend Draco was certainly not above making threats to Blaise's most prized possessions if it got him what he wanted.

The brunette clicked his tongue. "Touché, man."

Hermione emerged a second time looking far less uncomfortable. "This one's better," she said, doing a twirl. The full skirt went with her, creating a slightly dizzying effect.

"I don't know," said Draco. "It's a little _too_ classy. Looks like something you'd wear to a Malfoy dinner party."

Blaise put his chin in his hand. "I see what you mean. Well then..." He made another round of the shop, before stopping at the rack that Hermione had been at before. "This one could be nice."

"Is it the dark green one?" asked Hermione, recognizing the selection.

"Uh huh. You like that one?"

"I was thinking about trying it before, but the price tag is a bit intense."

"Those are the new styles for the season, ma'am," explained the shop assistant, sniffling in disdain. "If you'd prefer something more of your economic sta-"

"How much is it, Blaise?" called Draco.

"Couple thousand galleons. No big deal," came the reply.

Draco snorted inelegantly. "If you like it, try it on, Hermione."

"I- well, if you insist," she said hesitantly.

This time Hermione was almost eager to scurry back into the changing rooms, and within moments she was back out looking satisfied with herself. She scanned the men's faces for their reaction and was secretly pleased when she saw that Draco's eyes had glazed over. "Merlin," he muttered.

"We'll take this one," said Blaise quickly to the shop assistant, as if afraid that if they waited any longer the dress would vanish into thin air. "Granger, I never thought I'd say this, but you look amazing."

"Thanks," she replied, blushing.

"Wait. Try these shoes to go with the dress," he said, picking out black pair from a pedestal. She did so and felt herself instantly gain several inches of confidence. "Just as I thought. Perfect."

She glanced over at Draco shyly. "What do you think?"

"You look beautiful," he said, smiling.

Hermione felt her heart leap to her throat. It was three simple words, but with them she felt all her fears and doubts melt away. Evidently her face must have gone a deeper shade of red, because Blaise pouted and said, "Hey, I said you looked _amazing_. He just said you looked plain ol' beautiful. Why did you go all goo-gaa over _his_ compliment and not mine?"

Laughing, Hermione turned towards him. "Thank you, Blaise. I appreciated your help. Honestly."

He smirked. "Welcome. Go enjoy your date, you two. I'll finish things up here. Draco, you owe me, you hear? Hire some more cute bartenders for me."

"Find your own damn bartenders," snarled Draco. "Hermione, shall we?"

He stretched out his hand, and Hermione took it before she could stop herself. _No turning back now,_ she thought, and found that she didn't really care.

**xx-xx**


End file.
